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THE YOUNG TRADERS 






BENSON I.OWERED HIMSELF SWIFTLY, AND LANDED WITH A CRASH 

IN THE DINGHY 



THE 

YOUNG TRADERS 


THE ADVENTURES OF TWO 
BOYS IN WESTERN AFRICA 


BY 

HAROLD BINDLOSS 

• I 

AUTHOR OF 

“Alton of Somasco,” “The Cattle-Baron’s Daughter,” 
“Dust of Conflict,” “Winston of the Prairie,” etc. 


WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW YORK 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDtes RecdvBd 

AUG 80 190^ 

J CoBvnfM Etilry 

cuss ^ XXCm iw. 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 190T, by 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

Published August, 1907 


All Bights Reserved 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEB PAGE 

I. Benson Sahib 1 

II. Robeetson’s Dingey 16 

III. A Cbushing Blow 31 

IV. At Bonneb and Mason’s .... 45 

V. A Feiend in Need 60 

VI. Olltt’s Suepbise 75 

VII. A Night of Adventuee .... 93 

VIII. A Question of Pbinciple .... 109 

IX. On the Veege of Destitution . . . 125 

X. The Road to Kopelli 140 

XI. Benson’s Daek Houe 155 

XII. The Place of Saceifice .... 169 

XIII. The Demon of Kopelli .... 183 

XIV. Captain Ogilvie 198 

XV. King Okiei 212 

XVI. Imeie’s Nuese 226 

XVII. Imeie’s Last Joueney 241 

XVIII. An Eventful Decision .... 254 

XIX. The Headman’s Powdeb .... 266 

XX. On Guaed 282 

XXI. The Relief of Kopelli .... 294 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


Benson lowered himself swiftly, and landed with 

A CRASH IN THE DiNGEY . . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Benson gasped as he saw the froth beneath the 

SHARP BOW close BEHIND HIM .... 94 

The Shah playfully flung a wooden shovel . . 166 

Rescued from the Guardian of Kopelli . . . 190 

There was a crash as they swept by . . . 228 

I’ll FUNG THIS LAMP INTO AN OPEN KEG BEFORE THE 

FIRST ENTERS THE SHED 276 






THE YOUNG TRADERS 

























The Young Traders 


CHAPTEE I 

BENSON SAHIB 

T he fires had long since died out, and there 
was silence in the sleeping camp on a hill- 
side of Northern India, where two officers sat 
talking in a tent. Although the day had been 
intensely hot, the draughts which swept through 
the tent were chilly, and Captain Ogilvie, who 
suffered from jungle fever, drew the sheepskins 
closer round him as the fall of the sentry’s feet 
came out of the silence. A hoarse voice rose up, 
somebody cried out in answer, and when the 
patter of feet grew fainter again Ogilvie turned 
towards his companion. 

“It will be a dangerous piece of work, and I 
am doubtful whether one could place auy confi- 
dence in the promise Shafiz makes,” he said. 

Benson, who was a tall man with bronzed face 
and grave blue eyes, nodded. He was seldom 
talkative, and only one or two officials and the 
dusky men who followed him knew how danger- 
ous was the work he did for the Government of 
India. 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


“ Cholera has broken out among Davenham’s 
white infantry,” he said. “ Blair dare make no 
move with his few Ghurkas, and if nothing is 
done the neighboring tribes will join their dis- 
affected comrades. Still, if we can persuade 
Shafiz to remain quiet and loyal they will hesi- 
tate to take up arms without him, and he prom- 
ises to receive us.” 

Ogilvie understood all this already, and was 
well aware that if any of the disaffected tribes- 
men had heard that he and Benson proposed to 
visit Shafiz, who was the head of a powerful 
tribe, their lives would pay the forfeit. Dusky 
marksmen watched the wild hill passes they 
must traverse, and they could not take a strong 
escort for fear of provoking hostilities. It was 
an undertaking which demanded the highest 
courage, and if they succeeded in preserving 
peace along the turbulent border the credit 
would be given to their superiors. If they failed, 
Ogilvie believed the tribesmen would arrange 
that neither of them came back again. 

Turning, he glanced at the wild ranges they 
must travel through. Giant peak and hillside 
towered in shadowy grandeur under the cold 
light of the moon, while one dark patch marked 
the deep ravine up which their path led into a 
country which was very dangerous to white men 
then. Once they entered that gloomy gateway 
every stone might hide an enemy lying in wait 
2 


BENSON SAHIB 


for them, and if disaster overtook them, none of 
their countrymen would ever learn their fate. 
It requires a strong sense of duty to carry any 
man through such an undertaking, and noticing 
that Benson was waiting, Ogilvie laughed mirth- 
lessly. 

“ I suppose it must be done, though I’d like 
to take a half-company of Ghurkas as far as 
possible,” he said. “They could follow among 
the hills behind us, keeping out of sight.” 

“ We could not take them beyond the river, 
because Shafiz stipulates that we come alone, 
and we could not expect him to listen to us if 
we show that we distrust him,” said Benson. 
“ Besides, they would not be a great protec- 
tion, considering that our first warning would 
probably be a bullet from behind a stone. 
They might, however, follow as far as the 
river.” 

“ Well,” said Ogilvie, “ it’s a rather desperate 
venture; but at least there is nobody to grieve 
at home if I never come back again. You are, 
no doubt, in the same position.” 

Benson sighed a little. “ I am not,” said he. 
“ It is perhaps possible, though not likely, that 
if one went down the other might go free, and 
should a bullet come my way there is something 
you could do for me. I have a son, Hilford Ben- 
son, at school in England, who, if I live, is going 
to Sandhurst shortly, and then to join the col- 
3 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


ors, I have, however, nothing to leave him, and 
his future has been my one anxiety.” 

Ogilvie nodded sympathetically. “ Consider- 
ing your long service, it shouldn’t be difficult to 
find him a post under the Government. I think 
I could promise to see to it,” said he. 

“ Thank you,” said Benson quietly. “ That is 
a weight off my mind. Now it might he well to 
get an hour’s sleep while we can.” 

It was some little time later when the two 
went out into the chilly air. The moon had gone, 
and the ranges rose black and forbidding under 
the starlight. A young lieutenant paced along 
the line of little dusky Ghurkas who fell in be- 
hind them, and one or two white officers clus- 
tered about Benson. 

“ Good luck ! ” said somebody. There was a 
hoarse command, followed by a tramp of feet, 
and Benson Sahib had started on as desperate 
a venture as ever an Englishman undertook with- 
out hope of reward for the honor of his nation. 
He halted a moment in the mouth of the pass, 
and glanced back towards the camp. A cold 
wind moaned among the crags above, and he 
shivered a little. 

“ I wonder if we shall ever come out again,” 
he said. 

A soldier tripped upon a sharp stone and 
dropped his rifie, a comrade fell over him, and 
there was momentary confusion. Then the 
4 


BENSON SAHIB 


tramp of feet recommenced, and while the de- 
tachment sank into the black shadow of the 
gorge, the tall Indian sergeant at the end of 
the line fingered a little charm which hung about 
his neck. “ It is a bad omen, and I am glad it 
is the Sahib Benson who leads us. He is a man 
to trust,” he said. 

It was afternoon two days later, and very hot, 
when Benson and Ogilvie plodded with four 
Indian soldiers down a dusty defile. Steep hill- 
sides, littered here and there with stones and 
seamed by rock, towered above them, and high 
overhead a kite hung poised against the narrow 
strip of blue, watching the weary men toiling 
through the dust below. It hung about them in 
a gritty cloud, and Benson was gray to the fore- 
head with the fine hot powder, while only his 
uniform distinguished Ogilvie from the Indians. 
They were all of them weary, and the rocks fiung 
back a stifiing heat, but, with the possibility of a 
surprise every moment, it was not wise to rest. 
Benson, however, halted beside a great boulder 
and adjusted his glasses. 

“ The guide should have met us here, and I 
cannot see him anywhere,” he said. 

He swept the hillside with the glasses, but saw 
only stones and sun-baked rocks. A quivering 
light danced about them, bewildering his vision, 
though once for a second he fancied a tiny patch 
moved beside a boulder. He watched it intently, 
5 


THE YOUNG TKADEES 


but it did not move again, and he turned the 
glasses towards the track below. Here there 
were more boulders and dazzling sand. Nothing 
moved on the hillside, and nothing in the valley, 
but more kites had joined the first one, and they 
circled restlessly to and fro. 

“ The omen is evil,” said the Indian sergeant. 
“ These birds are hungry, and wait for their 
meat. I would give this most precious charm to 
see what they can see, or read the mind of Sahib 
Benson now.” 

“ The man is not here,” said Ogilvie. “ It 
is a pity we could not have brought the Ghurkas 
farther, but we may as well push on again. This 
place is a trifle too still to please me.” 

“We cannot turn back,” said Benson, “but 
there’s no use offering a better target to anybody 
who may be expecting us than is necessary. I’ll 
go first and you can spread your men out behind 
me.” 

Ogilvie spoke to the sergeant, and the sound 
of weary feet broke the silence as they went on 
again, Benson glancing to left and right, the 
sergeant behind him, Ogilvie and four dusky 
soldiers straggling in the rear. Suddenly some- 
thing that twinkled beside a boulder caught 
Ogilvie’s eye, and he recognized the glint of sun- 
light on metal. Still, being a cool and daring 
man, he neither halted nor called out, for he 
guessed that the muzzle of the gun was pointed 
6 


BENSON SAHIB 


at the breast of his companion, and that at the 
first sign of suspicion a hillman’s dusky finger 
would squeeze the already yielding trigger. He 
also felt certain that, although only one of the 
tribesmen had betrayed himself, there were more 
of them hidden among the stones. No doubt they 
had orders to prevent the white men from visit- 
ing the vacillating leader. 

This flashed upon Ogilvie, but he hoped that 
the lurking man would wait until Benson passed 
him, that the other tribesmen might with less 
difficulty account for the whole company. To go 
on for a few moments appeared most advisable, 
and he decided that Benson had also seen the 
flash of metal. Benson, the dusky soldiers said, 
saw everything, even what went on behind him, 
and Ogilvie fancied that the indifferent manner 
in which he moved forward was not quite natu- 
ral. Still, during the few seconds which followed 
he could hear his own heart beat, and felt a 
curious coldness under his belt. He had twice 
stormed a hill fort amid a rush of rolled-down 
stones, and felt only a wild excitement, but this 
was far more difficult work. He was on a peace- 
ful mission, and must walk unconcernedly for- 
ward with his pistols in its holster, while his 
flesh shrank instinctively from the tribesmen’s 
lead. 

He glanced up at the hillside, but it was empty, 
and when he looked down again the twinkle of 
7 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 

metal had vanished and the hollow was very still. 
Quickening his pace a little, he wondered if he 
should now shout in warning, and had opened 
his lips to do so when Benson sprang forward 
straight for the rock. Ogilvie saw him for a 
second, a tall, dusty figure against the dazzling 
glare, and then a puff of white smoke drifted 
across him. The crash of a long gun rolled 
along the hollow, and Benson went down head- 
long. Then, snatching his pistol from its hol- 
ster, Ogilvie ran forward with a hoarse cry of 
wrath. 

A man sprang from behind the boulder, but a 
soldier fired at him, and he rolled over with a 
shrill scream. The flash was answered by pale 
spurts of flame, but Ogilvie scarcely heard the 
lead splashing on the stones about him. He saw 
only the huddled object lying in the dust, and in 
another few seconds knelt beside it. 

“ Get back at once,” said Benson faintly. 
“ Nobody can do anything for me.” 

Ogilvie turned to the sergeant, who was thrust- 
ing a second cartridge into his rifle’s breech. 
“ Help me to pick the Sahib up, and call the other 
men,” he said. “ We’ll try not to hurt you, 
Benson, but there are some stones back yonder 
which would offer good cover.” 

“ It is no use,” said Benson. “ They’ll cut off 
your way back in another minute, and I’m past 
any help that you can give me.” 


BENSON SAHIB 


f 

i 


Ogilvie smiled grimly, though there was no 
mirth in his face. 

“ They have cut it off already,” said he, “ and 
if you prefer to stay here we’ll stay with you. 
We might, however, make a little better fight 
yonder, and it won’t be quite so hot in the 
shadow. Steady, sergeant; your arm under his 
shoulder. Sorry we shook you, Benson ! ” 

They stumbled forward with their burden, 
while white-robed figures came leaping down the 
hillside close behind them and humming bullets 
struck up the sand about their feet until Ogilvie 
sat down gasping when they laid his comrade 
behind the stones. “ Boll those other boulders 
in behind us, sergeant,” he said breathlessly. 
“Benson, is there nothing I can do?” 

Benson lay in the hot sand with flies buzz- 
ing about him. A stain upon his jacket grew 
rapidly broader, and his face showed colorless 
where Ogilvie, in carrying him, had brushed the 
dust away. Seeing the pity in his companion’s 
eyes, he smiled gravely. 

“ I’m afraid not,” said he. “ It would not in 
any case be a great kindness since every breath is 
choking me. Keep your eye on those fellows. 
They will make a rush presently ! ” 

“ I hope they will,” said Ogilvie grimly, and 
there was an answering growl from the dusky 
aliens about them. They were fearless soldiers 
and cherished the respect of brave men for the 


9 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


Sahib Benson, whom they considered the greatest 
man in that country. 

Ogilvie stolidly recharged his pistol magazine. 
He and Benson were old friends, but he had also 
the safety of his men to think of, and presently 
raised his cap on the butt of the weapon above 
the stones. Something hummed past it and 
splashed against a boulder, while Ogilvie smiled 
drily and, scooping out the sand between two 
stones, saw the moving objects in fluttering 
dresses still slipping in and out among the rocks. 
There was nothing very impressive about them, 
and he only saw each one for a second or two, but 
he knew their cunning and relentless ferocity. 

They on their part evidently understood the 
reliability of a Martini rifle. 

“ Tell your men to lay a few cartridges ready 
beside them, sergeant,” he said. 

A very anxious ten minutes followed. Some- 
times Ogilvie saw small portions of one or two 
of his enemies, and always in different places. 
More often he saw nothing, but now and then 
the rattle of a stone would break the heavy 
silence. Inside the sangar the soldiers moved 
their rifle sights, and breathed uneasily. Benson 
alone lay with half-closed eyes very still, while 
Ogilvie longed for the moment the foe would 
break cover. Anything appeared better than 
sitting still while death crept nearer and nearer. 

At last two puffs of smoke curled up from be- 
10 


BENSON SAHIB 


hind a heap of sand. Another drifted across a 
rock above, and several lithe figures bounded 
towards the sangar from a quarter he had not 
expected. Then as he cried out four rifies 
flashed, and the sangar was filled with acrid 
smoke. Thin red flashes leaped through it, and 
then there was sudden silence once more, for so 
far as Ogilvie could see the foe had vanished 
completely. Probably they had only been mak- 
ing a dash for a closer point of attack. 

‘‘ They can’t know that the Ghurkas are be- 
hind us, and Blair should hear the firing if he 
isn’t deaf,” he said. “ If these fellows intend to 
wait for night there is a ray of hope yet. Did 
you know there was a man behind the boulder, 
Benson? ” 

“ I did,” said the dying man faintly. I fan- 
cied if I walked straight forward I could get 
hold of him, and that would draw off his friends’ 
notice until you took cover. I Tvas a second too 
late, unfortunately; but if I had gone past him, 
his comrades would have picked off every man 
of you.” 

Ogilvie asked no more questions. He saw 
that speech was painful to his comrade, who had 
given his life for the detachment, and they had 
undertaken too many dangerous missions to- 
gether to render it necessary. So he merely 
nodded, saying, “ I thought so. It is a horrible 
pity.” 


11 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ Remember it was not Shafiz,” said Benson 
slowly. “ These are not his men.” 

Then there was a painful silence. The hill- 
men had disappeared, but Ogilvie guessed they 
were only waiting for darkness, and the shadows 
were lengthening rapidly. He wondered if Blair 
had heard the firing, and, picking up Benson’s 
glasses, swept the hillside with them, only desist- 
ing when his sight failed him. It was now all 
very still. The soldiers lay motionless, and Ben- 
son’s eyes were shut, though Ogilvie could see 
that he was still breathing. 

At last, when the hillside was losing its sharp- 
ness, a tiny object, visible only through the 
glasses, crossed a distant ridge and was followed 
by another. More came behind them and dis- 
appeared, and as he laid down the glasses, Ogil- 
vie’s heart beat fast, for the shadows were rapidly 
deepening in the valley. The men he had seen 
were either Blair’s Ghurkas or hostile hillmen, 
and the difference was that between life and 
death to him. 

It was stiller than ever for nearly another 
hour, and the air grew colder. Then Ogilvie 
spoke hoarsely to the sergeant, knowing that in 
a little while their fate would be decided. Dark- 
ness, which comes swiftly in that region, was 
descending upon the valley. 

There was a patter of stealthy footsteps, a 
rattle of sliding stones, and here and there a 
12 


BENSON SAHIB 


half-seen object showed among the rocks, a little 
nearer every time it rose. Then a long gun 
flashed, and after the first thin red blaze Benson 
saw nothing through the smoke, for the rifles 
hammered and darkness closed about him. A 
minute or two later he leaped upright as, through 
the din of firing, a yell came down the hillside, 
followed by the trampling of running men. 
There were cries in the hollow, cries of alarm'and 
of pain, for the hillmen had probably expected 
friends of their own, and not the little Ghurkas 
with their great carved knives. So, suddenly as 
the hillmen had come, they went, though the hiss- 
ing sweep of a heavy blade or the ringing of a 
rifle brought the flight of some of them to an 
abrupt termination. 

Then a young white man came panting up to 
the sangar with a little dark-faced sergeant, who 
carried a lantern behind him. 

“Hardly thought we’d find you living when 
we got here, though we nearly broke our necks,” 
he said. “ These fellows pulled me up preci- 
pices, and when they couldn’t lower me down, 
they rolled me ! ” 

Ogilvie raised his hand, and the other broke 
off when he saw his face. 

“Benson! What have you done with him?” 
he said. 

Ogilvie merely pointed. He felt that he could 
not speak, and knelt beside his comrade when 
13 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

the young officer lowered the lantern. Benson’s 
eyes were open, but his face was drawn and 
ghastly under the gritty dust. 

“ You’ll remember your promise, Ogilvie, and 
see what can be done for my boy,” he said. “ Hil- 
ford Benson — Conningsbury School.” 

“ Yes,” said Ogilvie huskily. “ I’ll look after 
him.” 

Benson tried to stretch his hand out, but his 
strength failed him, and Ogilvie took it in his 
own. “ His mother died in Simla,” he said, very 
faintly. “ He has nobody near of kin except one 
man I would not trust him to. It is three years 
since I saw him, and when we had got through 
this affair I was going home to England.” 

Ogilvie said nothing, but pressed the fingers 
which grew chilly within his own. “ Poor lad,” 
said Benson. “He will be a penniless orphan. 
Tell them not to suspect Shafiz. I think he 
would have kept his word. I was going home 
to England, but there is a man who did good 
work with me. I want him. He made me a 
promise. Where is Ogilvie? ” 

“ His mind is going,” said the other man, and 
Ogilvie tightened his grasp on the chilly hand. 

“ I’m here, and sorry the fellow behind the 
boulder got the man who could least be spared,” 
said he. 

“ Speak louder,” said Benson. “ You are 
Ogilvie, but your voice is different. I want my 
14 


BENSON SAHIB 


lad. It is three years since I saw him, and he is 
at school at Conningsbury. He is to serve his 
country.” 

He broke off abruptly, and for a time Ogilvie 
sat motionless, holding his comrade’s hand. Then 
he stood up bareheaded. 

“ He has made his last march. If the lad is 
like him he will serve his country well,” he said. 
“ Had poor Benson thought of his own safety I 
should have been lying among my men with a 
bullet through my head. I believe when we 
started he knew he was going to his death.” 

“ There are very few fit to take his place,” 
said the other softly as they went out of the 
sangar, leaving Benson Sahib to his rest. 


15 


CHAPTER II 

EOBERTSON'’S DINGEY 

I T was a blustering evening when two boys sat 
looking out on a bay on the coast of Scotland 
from a window of Oulton manse. Now and then 
a rain squall obscured the sea, and there was a 
roaring in the chimney while smoke blew out 
from the hearth. The weather had changed sud- 
denly after the regatta that afternoon, and there 
was every promise of a stormy night. The room, 
however, was warm and cozy, and the boys would 
have been contented to spend the evening discuss- 
ing the regatta, but unfortunately there was 
work for them to do. 

“ I’m not very much tempted to go out. 
Couldn’t we give somebody a shilling to bring the 
dingey in? ” said Reginald Wilkie, the minister’s 
son. 

His companion shook his head as he glanced 
at the rain-swept sea. A boat-builder had lent 
them a dingey for the afternoon, and when the 
falling tide left the harbor dry, they had left 
the boat in the shelter of a reef a mile or so 
away. Now the tide was rising they must bring 
her back to the little quay. 


ROBEETSON’S DINGEY 


“ I don’t think we could find anybody in time, 
and we promised old Robertson to haul up the 
boat ourselves,” he said. 

Wilkie grumbled, You are too particular, 
Ford. I don’t see that it makes any difference 
so long as the boat is brought back safe.” 

“ I think it does,” said his companion. “ We 
promised Robertson, and I haven’t got a spare 
shilling. Have you? ” 

Reginald Wilkie grinned, “ I seldom have. 
Don’t seem able to keep them, but I dare say my 
mother has,” said he. “ Well, if you’ve made 
your mind up it’s no good arguing, and I’m 
thinking I’ll just have to come,” 

Hilford Benson did not answer. He was not 
a very talkative lad, but, as sometimes happens 
with quiet people, the things he did usually spoke 
for him. This was why the grave Scotch clergy- 
man approved of his son’s school companion, and 
invited him each vacation to Oulton manse. 
Benson was not considered a genius at school, 
though he worked perseveringly, but Mr. Wilkie 
sometimes said it was the slow, steady-going 
people who were of most use in the world. He 
also considered it fortunate Reggie had chosen a 
companion who could not lead him into extrava- 
gance, for Benson’s father was not a rich man, 
and it was only by strict economy he had pro- 
vided his son with an education which should 
carry him through the military college. Hilford 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


Benson was tall and broad-shouldered, with 
fair hair and grave blue eyes. He was not a 
lad who attracted attention, but there was a 
quiet air of resolution about him, and those who 
knew Benson Sahib, whose name was respected 
by the wild tribes of the Indian border, would 
have recognized the same steady eyes. It was 
known at school that his patience was long, but 
those who found pleasure in inflicting petty 
miseries upon their fellows avoided him. Benson 
could strike when it was necessary, with a swift- 
ness and force which enabled him to live peace- 
ably because it was seldom necessary to repeat 
the blow. 

“ Come along, Reggie. The wind is freshening 
fast,” said he. 

Twenty minutes later they halted upon a jut- 
ting reef, while the rain beat into their faces. 
It was so thick that they could scarcely see the 
quay a mile away, or the trees across the bay. 
This was lined with a fringe of jagged rock, on 
which the sea that came rolling in already broke 
whitely. 

“ There is water in the harbor now, and the 
next thing is to get on board the dingey,” said 
Benson. 

“ I’m thinking that will not be easy,” said 
Reggie, glancing down at the boat which lay 
heaving a dozen feet beneath him. The reef was 
steep, and draped with slippery weed, while 
18 


EOBERTSON’S dingey 


swinging slopes of dull-colored water washed 
along it. They hove the tiny craft aloft, and 
then let her drop while the frothy backwash 
streamed down the rock. 

“ I’ll slide down first,” said Benson quietly. 

Wilkie slackened a rope, and Benson waited 
until the craft swung towards him as a swell 
surged in, then lowered himself swiftly with his 
back to the stone, and landed with a crash on 
hands and knees in the dingey. “ I thought you 
had gone right through her bottom,” said Reggie. 

He hesitated before he attempted the descent, 
but accomplished it safely, and Benson dropped 
an oar into the rowlock. ‘‘ Pull ! ” he said 
sharply. “Dip deep when we get round the 
corner. Take your time from me.” 

They shot out round the reef, and the dingey 
looked very small when she was picked up by the 
the top of a sea. A second one came up behind 
her, curling unpleasantly high above her stern, 
and Benson panted, “ Hard for a stroke or two. 
Now steady!” 

The dingey slewed a little, with her rounded 
stern to the sea, which hove her up, frothing all 
about her, and then dropped her suddenly. Both 
lads could row, and they gathered confidence as 
they saw how the little craft went over that steep 
upheaval without shipping more than spray. 
The water was also smoother inshore, and it was 
a fair wind to the harbor. So, alternately pad- 
19 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


dling easily and rowing hard as the seas frothed 
up and passed, they made good progress, and 
were not far from the quay when several men 
standing on a reef hailed them. Two big fishing- 
boats, which had been too late to enter port after 
the races, lay anchored close by, rolling viciously. 

“ They’re asking us to fake them off. It’s 
smooth w’ater under the point,” said Wilkie. 

They pulled the dingey into partial shelter, 
and a man who was stripping off his jersey 
shouted to them. “ Will ye put us aboard yon 
boats? ” said he. 

“We would, but this is not our dingey, and 
we might smash her on the stones,” said Benson. 

“We’d sooner swim off than beg favors of 
ye. Go on with your dingey,” shouted some- 
body; but the other man called again. 

“ We couldn’t pull a punt up from the harbor 
or we would not have asked ye,” said he. 
“ What’s the value o’ a new plank in the dingey 
to a boat that’s earning poor men’s bread? She’ll 
no hold to her anchor, and if she goes up in the 
sur yonder it’s firewood the sea will make o’ her.” 

Benson glanced at the plunging boat, then at 
the white surf in the bay, and saw the man 
was not exaggerating. “We might do it with- 
out smashing the craft after all. Back her in,” 
said he. 

Wilkie, who had learned to trust his comrade, 
obeyed, and when Benson told him rested on his 
20 


EOBEETSON’S DINGEY 


oars. The dingey danced on the broken swell 
with the stones some yards away. “ Can’t we 
go, in farther? Do you want to make them 
swim? ” said Eeggie. 

“ They needn’t, unless they like it,” said Ben- 
son coolly. “As it can’t be more than waist- 
deep they can walk, you see.” 

There was a burst of hoarse laughter from 
the men, and two of them came splashing through 
the water, and climbed aboard. 

“ I’m thinking it’s all she’ll carry, and Jock 
can go back for the rest of us,” said the first, 
who took the oars. 

It was a struggle to reach the nearest boat, 
and when they did so the fisherman pushed the 
boys on board her, “ It will take a man to put 
the rest aboard the Kate” said he, as he followed 
them. “ Bide ye here, an’ help me set the lug 
’til Jock comes back for ye.” 

Scrambling forward, they pulled at the rope 
he gave them until, when the wet canvas 
thrashed above them, the fisherman called them 
to the cable and they dragged the heavy boat up 
over her anchor. She was plunging viciously, 
and hurled up showers of spray when she lurched 
through a sea. Benson was half-blinded by it 
when, just as the dingey shot towards them, 
there was a shout from the fisherman. “ She 
has broken out her anchor an’ is driving doon on 
us. Grip that, an’ haul on it.” 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


Benson saw that Eeggie was behind him haul- 
ing in the rope, then that the other boat was 
apparently surging towards them, while the 
anchor had hardly reached the bows when there 
was a heavy shock and he leaped backwards as 
the side of the other boat came lurching down. 
He thrust against it with a boathook, and as the 
boat they were on board of drove clear, saw a man 
jump from the dingey. Then their craft slanted 
over until the foam lapped level with one 
depressed side, while the other rose high above 
him and a shower of spray blew over it into the 
foot of the straining sail. It did not need the 
fisherman’s shout to warn him that his proper 
place was on the higher, or weather, gunwale. 
He scrambled to it, and sat there with Eeggie 
near him and the foam rushing past below. 
Glancing astern, he saw the dingey tugging 
violently at her painter as she surged after them 
along the torn-up wake, and the Kate already 
fading into the rain. The boat was a big, open 
fishing craft, and seemed to be going through 
the water as fast as a steamer. 

“ How are we to get ashore? ” he said to her 
owner. 

“ Weel,” said the fisherman, pointing towards 
the dingey, “ I’m thinking ye cannot go that 
way. She would roll over before ye got into 
her in this jump o’ sea. It was Jock’s blunder- 
22 


ROBERTSON’S DINGEY 


ing brought ye here, and noo ye’ll have to make 
the best o’ it with me.” 

Reggie growled despondently. He was 
drenched already, and night was coming on, 
while stinging spray beat in thicker clonds across 
the boat as she thrashed out for open sea. Ben- 
son shook the water from him. “ How long will 
you keep us? ” said he. 

The man glanced back towards the quay, and 
then to windward across the hazy sea. The 
breeze was dead on shore, and there was little 
visible beyond a narrow stretch of tumbling 
water and flying scud. 

“ I’m thinking it will be no longer than I can 
help,” he said drily. “ We’re drawing over three 
foot water, and it would not be judicious to run 
for harbor until the tide gives us depth enough 
in about an hour. That is,” he added dubiously, 
“ if in the meantime I can haul her off the 
shore.” 

“ She’s making nothing this tack,” said Reg- 
gie. It’s a nice mess we’ve got ourselves into. 
I wish we’d gone on in the dingey.” 

Benson, who did not answer, stared at the 
half-seen chaos of froth beneath the dark trees 
on the opposite shore. It also seemed to him. 
that although the boat was sailing fast she was 
going to windward very slowly. A craft under 
sail, whether ship or boat, can only beat to 
23 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


windward, or the direction the wind is coming 
from, in a series of diagonals whose slant varies 
with her capabilities. In very disturbed water, 
or when the tide is against her, the diagonals 
become parallel lines, or sometimes slant to lee- 
ward, in which case it is evident that while sail- 
ing to and fro the vessel is making nothing in 
the required direction. 

“ Is there anything we can do to help you? ” 
said Benson. 

“Ye might set the jib,” said the fisherman. 
“ I’m no saying ye will manage it, but ye can 
make an offer. She’ll no steer without it, and 
the tiller is pulling the arms off me.” 

The two lads, scrambling forward through a 
foot of water, loosed a rope from its pin; but, 
though, panting and gasping, they exerted all 
their strength, the triangular strip of sailcloth 
which rose thrashing above the bowsprit over- 
powered them, and Benson was breathless when 
the fisherman shouted: 

“ Hoist an’ make fast while I ease her til ye.” 

He shoved down his tiller, and a sea foamed in 
across the bows as with canvas banging the boat 
came up towards the wind. It struck Wilkie in 
the face, and whipped Benson’s cap away. The 
lash of the cold water, however, only roused the 
latent resolution within him, and he clung to the 
wet rope, which yielded a little, determinedly 
hauled another few inches in, and with a gasp of 
24 


EOBEETSON’g DINGEY 


triumph made it fast to its pin. Then, when he 
would have climbed up again, the fisherman’s 
voice reached him: 

“Weel done! Bide there, an’ overhaul the 
sheets while I bring her round.” 

The boat plunged forward on her course again, 
and Benson saw the blurred outline of rocks and 
trees rise up ahead. A confused whiteness 
showed how the sea broke upon the shelves of 
hammered stone, and because it was evident that 
they must stay, or turn the boat round from one 
diagonal to another, he waited the next order 
anxiously. 

“ Lee oh ! ” shouted the fisherman. “ Let fiy 
your jib sheet. Noo grip it an’ hand on. Let go 
again, an’ haul in the other one.” 

While the two lads struggled with the ropes 
a deluge burst in over the bow. Then amidst a 
great thrashing of sailcloth the boat raised her- 
self to a level, though it seemed by her slowness 
that she would fall back on the former tack and 
be blown ashore. Still, the orders were definite 
and Benson obeyed them until the banging jib, 
filling on the other side, forced her head round, 
and before he had scrambled back to the gun- 
wale she was off again with all her lee side wash- 
ing in the foam. 

“ With good guidance ye might make a fisher- 
man,” said her owner, flinging a rope to him. 
“ Catch a turn o’ this mainsheet on yonder pin. 
25 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 

I’ll need both hands for the helm, I’m think- 
ing.” 

Benson stiffened his grasp on the rope which 
held the lugsail in (for a sheet is always the 
rope which holds the corner of a sail), while 
Reggie shivered as he asked a somewhat im- 
portant question: 

“ Have we made anything on that tack? ” 

“ I’d no guarantee it,” said the owner. “ Ye 
could hardly expect it of her with yon dingey 
dragging her to lee. I was considering whether 
it would not be well to cast her adrift.” 

Reggie glanced at the dingey plunging half- 
swamped behind them, and the unflexed line of 
her painter showed how her weight was telling. 
Benson’s glance followed his, and they realized 
that if the boat could not hold her own until 
there was water enough to run for harbor, swim- 
ming might be useless when she grounded in 
the surf. It was almost dark, but Reggie saw 
that his comrade’s face was very grim. There 
were dusky men who slept with a long gun beside 
them on the Indian border who would have 
recognized the son of Benson Sahib then. “ That 
is one thing you will not do,” he said. 

“ I’m not quite decided,” said the flsherman 
drily. “ Still, while not that anxious for hard 
words with Robertson, I’m not seeing who’s to 
stop me.” 

“ You will,” said Benson. “ The minute you 
26 


KOBERTSON’S DINGEY 


loose the dingey I’ll let the main sheet go. You 
can’t sail the boat to windward with mainsail 
flying.” 

Instead of showing anger, the flsherman 
laughed a great hoarse laugh. He was a stolid, 
slowly-spoken man who would never have 
wrested a livelihood from the sea but for grim 
courage and dogged obstinacy, and he recognized 
the same spirit in the shivering lad. 

“We’ll hand on a bit longer. I’m supposing 
ye can swim,” he said. 

The sea grew worse as they thrashed out into 
the night. The jib deluged half-way up, and 
the water lapped in over the lee side in buckets- 
ful, while Reggie, crawling about the ballast, 
bailed desperately. Part of each pailful went 
over the skipper and some into the sail, but no- 
body could be wetter, and he kept the water from 
gaining dangerously fast. It was, however, 
evident that the craft could not much longer 
stand up to her sail, and though weathershroud 
and halliard rose in hardest tension through the 
driving spray the mast buckled ominously. At 
last, when the whole lee side dipped under, Ben- 
son let a foot of mainsheet run to ease the boat 
a little. 

“ What would ye say if I asked ye to slip the 
dingey now? ” said the fisherman. 

“ What I said before,” said Benson ; and the 
man laughed again. 


27 


THE YOUNG TKADEKS 


“ Then I’ll not ask ye,” said he. “ Look astern, 
and ye’ll see the signal that there’s water 
enough in.” 

Benson glancing behind him saw a red twinkle 
through the spray, and fancied it was not very 
far away. “ Slack your sheets,” said the fisher- 
man. “ With this breeze over her quarter she’ll 
not be for dawdling on the way.” 

He pulled up his tiller. Benson let the sheet 
run until the streaming sail swelled like a balloon 
above the lurching hull, which now rushed home- 
wards before the curling seas. She seemed to 
be going over them with the speed of a train, and 
the half-swamped dingey came charging up on 
either quarter as though she meant to jump on 
board. 

Meantime the red twinkle grew into a blaze, 
and soon they could see men moving through the 
firelit spray which blew across the quay. Then 
a rolling mass of water rose up before them, but 
the quay was nearer when the boat shot forward 
on the succeeding sea. 

“ Forward, and loose the main halliard on 
the second pin,” roared the fisherman. “ When 
I shout, whip it off and let her go.” 

Benson stood waiting, staring at the foam- 
licked wall that towered close before them. Men 
were shouting to them in the glare of the fire, 
and one was swinging a coil of line. The wall 
was rising higher every second, the boat rushing 
28 


ROBERTSON’S DINGEY 


towards it, and then there was a roar from the 
skipper, “ Down with the lug ! ” 

Benson snatched from its pin the halliard 
which held the sail up, and a banging mass of 
canvas fell upon him. When he had struggled 
clear of it there was no more lurching, for the 
boat swept forward throngh dusky shadow into 
sheltered water. A line fell clattering from the 
wall above, Benson heard it rasp round a timber 
head, and the pace grew slower, until sliding 
gently forward the boat stopped against a balk 
of timber. 

“ Ye’re hame,” said the fisherman, and burst 
into a laugh, when Benson, shaking the water 
from him, answered, “ I’m glad I am. Now 
you’ll help me with the dingey ! ” 

“ Faith, that I will,” said the other. “ Lay 
hold of this painter, ye above, and whip up the 
bit dingey for auld Robertson.” 

Reggie, who climbed the ladder, was excitedly 
answering his father’s questions when a group 
of men with something on their shoulders 
tramped past them. 

“ Where’s Hilford, and what is it they are 
carrying? ” said Mr. Wilkie sharply. 

“ It isn’t Hilford,” said Reggie, laughing. 
“ He’s somewhere helping. Can’t you see it’s 
Robertson’s dingey? ” 

Presently four sturdy fishermen laid down the 
craft before a little bent-shouldered man. “If 
29 


THE YOUNG TKADERS 


it had not been for yon lad’s pluck, I’m doubting 
ye would have seen your boat again,” said one 
of them. 

The boat-builder looked at Benson, who re- 
gretted that the rest crowding round him pre- 
vented his slipping away. “ She’s all right, I 
think. We promised to bring her back,” he said 
awkwardly. 

Robertson nodded. “ Ye did,” said he. “ I 
knew by the way ye said it I could trust ye. 
When ye want the bit dingey she’s there for 
ye.” 

Mrs. Wilkie overheard him, and when they 
went home together she laid her hand on Ben- 
son’s arm, “ Robertson does not say more than 
he can help as a rule,” said she. Any one who 
understood him would know that was a very 
high compliment he paid you.” 


30 


CHAPTEE III 


A CRUSHING BLOW 

T he bad weather did not last long, and there 
was clear sunshine next day when Mrs. 
Wilkie strolled with the two boys past the quay. 
Frothy lines of surf still licked the dripping 
sands, but beyond them the sea lay smooth and 
shining like the inside of a shell. The big brown 
lugsails hung drying about the boats in the har- 
bor, and the blue wood smoke which drifted 
across them was pungent with the odors of boil- 
ing tar, while Benson noticed it all with pleasure. 
He was a healthy English lad with simple tastes, 
and happiest when under the open sky, but he 
felt a trifle uncomfortable when one of a group 
of flshermen pointed towards him. 

“That’s the lad who put Willie aboard last 
night,” said the man. “ They’d have lost the 
Kate only for him an’ young Wilkie, Jock was 
saying.” 

“ Jock’s opinion is not of that value,” said 
somebody, and the rest laughed. “ He nearly 
let the dingey adrift, and had not the sense to 
know his own boat.” 

“ Weel, Willie was talking about them,” a 
31 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


third speaker broke in. “ Said they were clever, 
and he had an opinion o’ the biggest o’ them. 
Willie was for slipping the dingey, but the lad- 
die would not let him, though the weight o’ her 
was sending them ashore.” 

Mrs. Wilkie, who knew that her countrymen 
were not in the habit of praising any one un- 
necessarily, smiled at her companions to hide a 
sense of pride, for she decided that they were 
no doubt tolerably satisfied with themselves 
already. Presently she sat down on a strip of 
rabbit-cropped turf, and Benson lay among the 
wild thyme at her feet. Beneath them the trans- 
parent green water lapped about the jagged reefs, 
while little white-breasted divers suddenly broke 
the surface and went down again into the tide. 
Benson, however, scarcely noticed them. He 
was gazing at the line where sky and ocean met, 
wondering dreamily what lay beyond it, and Mrs. 
Wilkie’s questions turned his thoughts towards 
the future before him. 

“ Where did you learn to sail boats, Hilford? ” 
she said. 

“ In Bombay harbor,” said the lad. 

“ Would you like to go back to India? ” asked 
Mrs. Wilkie; and Benson’s eyes brightened as 
he answered her: 

“ I shall go some day. When I have got 
through Sandhurst I shall try for a commission 
in an Indian regiment. I was born there, and 
32 


A CRUSHING BLOW 

though I have been very happy at Oulton, this 
country seems tame to me.” 

Mrs. Wilkie smiled. She knew Benson was 
usually reticent, and the compliment pleased 
her. “ You spent some time in Manchester,” she 
said. “ Were you not happy there? ” 

“ I was not,” said Benson simply. “ I stayed 
with a relative of my mother, and don’t think he 
liked me. He said it was absurd to think of 
entering the army, and he would put me into a 
good business presently. I told him I would not 
go into business for anything.” 

Mrs. Wilkie laughed, for she knew the preju- 
dices bom in the children of the men who rule 
British India. “ That was unwise of you. Do 
you think any better of it now? ” she said. 

Benson also laughed a little. “ Of course, I 
should not have said that, but I’m afraid I 
don’t,” said he. “ Isn’t it better to serve one’s 
nation than spend all one’s life trying to make 
money? ” 

“ Perhaps it is,” said Mrs. Wilkie ; “ but if 
there had been no adventurous merchants we 
should not hold India and all our great colonies 
over the seas, while if somebody did not make 
money trading at home, who would pay the tuxes 
which provide for our soldiers and battleships? 
One can serve one’s country in many ways.” 

“ Of course,” said Benson thoughtfully. “ Still, 
it does not seem fit that healthy Englishmen 
33 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


should pass their lives scribbling at an office 
desk, and one always associates business with 
trickery.” 

“ That is very foolish,” said Mrs. Wilkie. 
“ Unfortunately there are dishonest men every- 
where, and I have heard of officers being turned 
out of their regiments for cheating at cards.” 

“ They deserved it,” said Benson. “ Still, it 
must be difficult to be an honest trader. You 
remember Maskham, Reggie? ” 

Reggie chuckled. “ I should think I do. He 
sold me an air-gun with the pump broken. He 
used to sell the fellows fishing-rods and catapults 
at a fearful profit, and charge them a shilling 
for sixpence when he lent them money until we 
couldn’t stand him any longer.” 

“ What did you do then? ” said Mrs. Wilkie. 

“ We just took the whole lot for nothing and 
smashed them,” said Reggie, with another 
chuckle, which ceased when his mother looked 
at him. 

“ That does not strike me as a very honest act,” 
said she. “ So you would sooner be a soldier, 
Hilford? ” 

“ There is nothing I should like better,” said 
Benson with a blush of enthusiasm. 

They chatted about other things, and Benson 
dreamed of the bright future before him as he 
looked out to sea, until Mr. Wilkie joined them. 

“ Go round and tell Donaldson about the pony, 
34 


A CRUSHING BLOW 


Reggie,” he said, and then glanced at his wife 
meaningly. Reggie did as he was bidden, and 
the minister’s voice was grave when he spoke 
again. “ I have something to tell you, Hilford. 
You must endeavor to be a brave boy, for it will 
be a heavy blow.” 

Benson rose up sharply, and the color left his 
face. Still his eyes were steady, and Mr. Wilkie 
felt relieved as he noticed the effort he made to 
conceal his apprehension. “ We have all to 
endure sorrow, and perhaps it is borne most 
easily if it comes when we are young,” he said. 
“ You know it is sent to do us good.” 

Benson’s fingers clenched themselves tightly, 
and his voice was a trifle hoarse. “ Please tell 
me quickly, sir,” he said. “ It is about my 
father.” 

Mr. Wilkie’s eyes were pitiful as he met the 
anxious gaze, but he saw that brevity would be 
best, and slowly bent his head. “ It will be 
very hard to bear,” he said, and laid his hand on 
Benson’s shoulder. “ Still, I think you will bear 
it manfully. My poor boy, he is dead.” 

Benson gasped and grew colorless to his lips. 
Wet rocks and shining sea seemed to grow dim 
and hazy, and he sat down shivering on the turf, 
scarcely hearing another word the minister said. 

“ Please leave me alone, sir,” he said huskily 
at last, and the clergyman did so, knowing that 
might be best. Nearly an hour had passed when 
35 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


Mrs. Wilkie touched him. “ I am so sorry, Hil- 
ford,” said she. “ You must get up and tell your 
grief to me!” 

Benson rose stiffly, and for a moment seemed 
to choke for breath. “ You are very kind, but 
I can’t talk to any one now,” said he. “ There 
was nobody like my father, and I have no 
mother. He — he was coming back to see me 
very shortly ! ” 

Mrs. Wilkie felt almost powerless to comfort 
him, and Benson walked home with her in a 
state of stony calm, while it was evening when 
her husband read him an unfinished letter from 
Captain Ogilvie. The Commanding Officer of 
an Indian regiment had written a few lines 
across it. He said that Captain Ogilvie had been 
called away on urgent duty, and had been seri- 
ously wounded, before he had finished the letter. 

“ You can always be proud of your father’s 
memory,” said the minister. “ He died doing his \ 
duty faithfully, and death could come in no 
better way to any man. You must endeavor to 
he brave and patient with such an example be- 
fore you ! ” 

“ It would be no use,” said Benson. “ I could 
never be like him. Still, I am glad I am going 
to Sandhurst. It will be a little easier to bear 
if I have work to do.” 

The minister looked uneasy, and appeared 
about to speak, but stood silent while Benson 
36 


A CEUSHING BLOW 


left him. He also coughed once or twice before 
he turned to Mrs. Wilkie. “ The poor boy has 
a good spirit, but he has borne enough to-day,” 
said he ; “I could not tell him that he will never 
go to Sandhurst, in all probability. It is almost 
impossible for a poor man to become an army 
officer, and he will have to look for some business 
situation.” 

Two days had passed when Mr. Wilkie, w’ho 
had received a curt letter from Benson’s only 
near relative, tried to soften what it said. “ I 
have no doubt your uncle is anxious to do all 
he can for you, and think you had better go to 
him at once, as he asks,” he said. 

“We are all sorry you cannot enter the army 
or Indian service now, but there are many useful 
things a young man can do, and you will prob- 
ably learn to like another profession as well.” 

“ I don’t think so, sir,” said Benson quietly. 
“ Still, at present I don’t greatly care what I 
do.” 

He went out abruptly to avoid Mrs. Wilkie’s 
pitying eyes, and when the door closed behind 
him the lady said gently, “ I am very sorry for 
Hilford, and know he does not like the uncle he 
is going to, which does not surprise me after that 
heartless letter. He had set his mind on serving 
with the colors, too.” 

Benson left Oulton next day, and found it 
difficult to avoid a breakdown when Keggie and 
37 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


Mrs. Wilkie said good-by to him. The manse 
was the only home he had known since his mother 
died in India, and he felt that he was going out 
friendless and alone into the world. It was also 
a dismal, wet evening when he drove through the 
streets of Manchester to his uncle’s house, and 
having seen very little of the big English cities, 
he found the endless rows of grimy houses 
strangely depressing. Neither was there any- 
thing encouraging in the sight of the busy men 
who thronged the streets. They appeared a 
different race from the officers he had known in 
India, or the sturdy good-humored fishermen and 
farmers of the North. The faces of most were 
pale and anxious, while some looked cunning 
and mean. Benson, whose head ached badly, 
felt that he could not endure a life among them 
in the roar of the smoke-blackened town. 

He was not greatly comforted when he reached 
his uncle’s house, and was shown into a big, 
gloomy room where a thin-faced lady said she 
hoped he had had a pleasant journey, and a man 
who stood with his hack to the fire gave him a 
curt greeting. Mr. Marchmont had a flushed, 
red face with no good-humor in it, and his eyes 
were cunning and greedy. 

“ I suppose you expected me to meet you, 
but it was impossible,” he said. “ A man has 
to attend to his business before anything, as 
you will find out shortly for yourself. Still, 
38 


A CRUSHING BLOW 


I’m glad to see you and wish we could keep you 
longer than Honday. We are sorry for you, but 
such things will happen. Helen, dinner is very 
late again.” 

Benson sat down, feeling too dejected to in- 
quire what they were going to do with him, and 
ate very little. He was glad when the meal was 
over and his aunt withdrew, for his uncle had 
evidently more to say to him. 

“ I don’t believe in beating about the bush, 
and we’ll come to the point,” said he. “ Your 
father left no money, and no young man would 
want to be idle. If he did it would be a sign 
that he was worth very little. Your father in- 
tended you to go to Sandhurst, didn’t he? ” 

“ I should like to go there still,” said Benson 
quietly, and Mr. Marchmont laughed. 

“ I’m afraid you can’t,” said he. “ There’s 
only one place for a poor man in the army, and 
that’s in the ranks, while we all want things we 
can never get. I would like to be a country 
gentleman, for instance, instead of being man- 
ager of a cotton mill.” 

Benson could not help thinking that his uncle 
would make a very indifferent one, and hoped he 
was not to be sent to the mill, but he only said 
sadly, “ I suppose it is impossible.” 

“ It is,” said Mr. Marchmont. “ One should 
always look the worst in the face, and I’ve heard 
of a place for you. You will go into the corn 
39 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


business in Liverpool, and as it’s one of the staple 
trades of the country, I dare say if you stick to 
it you may become a prosperous man some day, 
while, though some folks talk rubbish, there’s 
nothing like prosperity, and it’s every man’s 
first duty to do the best he can for himself.” 

Benson remembered that his father and Mr. 
Wilkie had given him very different notions of 
duty, but decided his uncle would laugh at their 
ideas. “ I am afraid I have no business quali- 
fications, sir,” he said. “ Captain Ogilvie seemed 
to think it would be possible to find me an ap- 
pointment in India.” 

“ Then I would recommend you to acquire 
them,” said his uncle. “ Captain Ogilvie is prob- 
ably dead, and I don’t think you need expect him 
to do anything for you. In the meantime you 
will commence with Bonner and Mason, Liver- 
pool, as junior clerk on Monday, and as at first 
they will only pay you a nominal salary. I’ll 
allow you a small sum weekly, which with your 
wages should keep you in clothes and lodging.” 

“ It is very good of you, sir,” said Benson 
stupidly, for he had not yet recovered from the 
effects of the blow. “Whenever I am able I 
will repay you.” 

“ You are a sensible boy,” said Mr. Marchmont. 
“ Now listen to me. You won’t find clerking too 
easy, but remember there’s no use quarreling 
with those set over you, even if they bully you. 

40 


A CRUSHING BLOW 


Rather pretend you like it, and wait until your 
time comes. Always look intelligent, and never 
admit you don’t know anything. If you do a 
clever thing don’t be bashful about it, and never 
miss an opportunity of shoving yourself to the 
front. It’s not the clerk who stays late every 
night, but the one who catches the partners’ 
eyes who gets on. Well, I have other affairs to 
attend to, and I dare say you will want to go to 
bed early.” 

Benson was glad of an excuse for retiring, and 
did so as soon as possible. Almost everything 
his uncle said jarred on him, and he had been 
taught too well not to realize that the advice he 
gave him was not worth remembering. Mr. 
Wilkie, he knew, had refused a handsome salary 
sooner than leave the fishermen he could do the 
most useful work among, and had Benson Sahib 
considered his own interests he would not then 
have been lying under a mound of stones in a 
lonely Indian defile. His son knew well that, 
though he seldom spoke of it, Benson Sahib had 
jheld his honor more precious than either wealth 
or fame. 

It was ten o’clock on the Monday when he 
presented himself at Bonner and Mason’s office, 
but the day was gloomy and a row of lights 
burned under battered green shades. Several 
untidy urchins were squabbling about a fire while 
they dried their clothes, and the long room was 
41 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


stuffy and foul. Young men sat on high stools 
in front of their desks, but as the partners were 
out, they were not working. They stared at him 
critically, and Benson felt his face grow hot when 
one made some coarse jest on his appearance. 

“Nobody attending to the gentleman? Can’t 
you see he looks important? ” observed another, 
flinging a book at the nearest office boy. “ Ask 
His Highness what we can do for him.” 

Benson, opening a leaf in the counter, walked 
forward. “ I’m the new clerk, and was told to 
ask for Mr. Watkins,” said he, though he saw 
that those he spoke to had guessed it already. 

There w'as a chorus of ironical wonder, and 
a youth with a scrofulous face grinned at his 
neighbor. “ I thought he was a new partner, 
at least,” said he. 

« We’ve no room for noblemen at Bonner’s,” 
said another. “ Quite sure it isn’t the wrong 
place you have come to? We’re full of titled 
folks already. That’s Li Hung Chang in the 
corner, and yonder’s the Shah. He wears a 
paper collar.” 

Benson looked at them solemnly. He had, of 
course, now and then, been made game of at 
school, but there was no malice in his school 
friends’ merriment as there was in this. His 
new comrades recognized that he was cast in a 
different mold, and disliked him for it, for while 
there are many offices where the staff are young 
42 


A CRUSHING BLOW 


men of character and education, Bonner and 
Mason paid very poor salaries, and took anybody 
who could exist on the wages. Benson accord- 
ingly felt a curious shrinking as he gazed gravely 
at those he was to work among. The faces of 
most were pinched and cunning, and though their 
upper garments suggested a taste for cheap 
finery, the boots of some were burst, while one or 
two who wore the smartest clothes appeared 
oblivious of dirty linen. A man of experience, 
knowing the grim struggle for existence which 
goes on in our large cities, would have felt sorry 
for them, but Benson felt only disgust and indig- 
nation. 

“ When you have finished staring I should be 
obliged if you will tell me where to find Mr. 
Watkins,” said he. 

“Watkins will faint when he sees him,” said 
one. “ Get him the governor’s cigar box and 
a paper,” said another; and a third, who was 
passing, walked deliberately into Benson. “ Can’t 
you get out of the way? ” said he. 

This proved the last straw, for Benson had 
endured a good deal of late, and next moment 
the offender, staggering backward, fell heavily 
against a desk. 

“ I asked a civil question, and that will teach 
you not to take liberties with me,” said Benson 
quietly, though his face was white with passion. 

There was a commotion, and while it lasted 
43 


THE YOUNG TKADEES 


the Shah, who was adorned by a smear of ink 
upon his nose and wore a very crumpled collar, 
got off his stool and walked towards the new- 
comer. “ Watkins is out, but you can sit in my 
place until he comes,” said he. “ I wouldn’t 
mind those baboons. They don’t know any bet- 
ter.” 

Benson smiled a little, for he read kindliness 
in the speaker’s eye. I am much obliged to 
you,” said he. 

Presently there was a sudden hush and every- 
body became busy as two men walked in. One 
passed through the room, but the other, who wore 
a long black coat, and had thin greasy hair and 
watery eyes, called Benson imperiously. “ You 
are, I presume, the new clerk,” said he. “ I am 
the manager of the ofi&ce, and all the juniors say 
‘ sir ’ to me ; but we need not waste time finding 
work for you. Go to Mr. Ollit yonder, and say 
you are to help him with his invoices.” 

Benson walked towards a youth whose back 
was nearest him, and then halted with a sense of 
dismay, for it was the one he had fiung against 
the desk. 

“ So you are to be my junior! ” said the other, 
smiling unpleasantly. “ You think a great deal 
of yourself, don’t you? but you’ll learn a thing or 
two while you’re under me.” 


44 


CHAPTEE IV 

AT BONNEE AND MASON’S 

B enson long remembered the first day he 
spent in the office of Bonner and Mason. 
The drizzle in the wet streets was thickened by a 
fog from the river, and the lights burned all day 
under their battered shades. Office boys streamed 
in and out by dozens, clerks with dripping um- 
brellas clamored for attention at the counter, 
and when Watkins was absent, were generally 
treated with lordly indifference by those belong- 
ing to the establishment. The more Benson saw 
of the latter, the less favorably they impressed 
him, and unfortunately he did not know that all 
offices were not managed in the same fashion as 
Bonner and Mason’s, and that the employers 
who pay the lowest wages naturally obtain the 
lowest class of assistants. It was therefore with 
a sense of dismay he wondered as he glanced 
round the stuffy, untidy office whether he must 
spend his best years in such surroundings. 

His first occupation was to check the calcula- 
tions Ollit passed him, and as he had neither 
pens nor pencil he inquired civilly where he 
should get them. Ollit stared at him with super- 
cilious surprise. 


45 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


“ Do you think I’m head office boy, or that it’s 
my place to wait on you? ” said he. 

Benson turned from him wearily, and saw a 
broad grin on the homely face of the Shah, who 
was watching them. “ That’s what he was a 
little while ago,” said he. “ Come along, and 
I’ll get some for you.” 

He walked towards the fire, where a boy with 
a foxy face and a big head stood steaming. “ I 
want the stationery cupboard opened,” he said. 

“ Is that all? ” inquired the boy, turning his 
opposite trouser leg to the fire. “ Come back 
in ten minutes. I’m busy.” 

Benson wondered at his impudence, but his 
companion smiled admiringly, and then seized 
the speaker by the ear. “ So am I,” said he. 
“ Open it, or give me the key.” 

The boy looked very knowing. “ I wasn’t born 
yesterday,” he said. “ You collared a bundle of 
pencils the last time you got the key. Don’t pull 
my ear off, and I’ll come with you.” 

He unlocked a door and revealed a chaotic 
litter of stationery, while the Shah, fumbling in 
his pockets, produced a bent cigarette. 

“ You can have it, Phillips. It will smoke all 
right if you stick a little stamp-edging round it,” 
he said suggestively. “ We needn’t keep you.” 

The boy grinned broadly, and pocketing the 
cigarette held out his hand again. “ See if you 
can’t find a whole one,” said he. 

46 


AT BONNER AND MASON’S 


The Shah, who grumbled a little, managed to 
discover a second cigarette in tolerable condi- 
tion, and then knelt beside the cupboard, chuck- 
ling when the boy turned away. 

“ Phillips will be a merchant before he dies,” 
he said approvingly. “ Have you ever seen an- 
other kid as ‘ cute ’ as he? ” 

“ Once,” said Benson drily. “ The head of my 
form took a cricket stump to him, and I think 
it did him good. Still, I’m obliged to you. You 
are the first one who has been civil to me, and 
I don’t know your name.” 

“ I’m Mr. Ormond,” said the other, “ though 
I’m generally called the Shah. Somebody once 
brought in a picture of him, and Ollit said I 
was like him. You see, some folks consider I’ve 
a natty taste in jewelry.” 

Benson felt an inclination to laugh, but sup- 
pressed it. His companion’s face was freckled, 
and his hair stood up in tufts from the back of 
his head. He wore a thick watch-chain, evi- 
dently made of brass, and a pin, whose head was 
meant for a turquoise, ornamented his frayed-out 
scarf, while another colored stone flashed in 
one soiled cuff. Still, he looked good-natured, 
and Benson saw that he meant to be friendly. 

“ Here you are,” he continued, opening a bun- 
dle of pencils and tendering Benson half of them 
while he thrust the rest into his pocket. “ We’re 
in luck’s way, and it was a happy thought of 
47 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


Watkins’s to give Phillips the key. Here’s a 
ream of foolscap, and I was wanting some. You 
can shove some sheets into your desk until you 
go home this evening. A box of pens I like, too.” 

Benson looked astonished, for he saw that the 
Shah was busy filling his pockets. “ I don’t quite 
understand. Are you going to take those things 
home? ” said he. 

“ Did you think I was going to drop them in 
the street? ” said the Shah unblushingly. “ I’m 
learning shorthand and book-keeping at nights, 
you see, and as they’ll get the good of it, it’s 
only fair that Bonner and Mason should keep me 
in stationery. Hallo! Don’t you want them?” 

Benson replaced the articles offered him. “ I 
want a couple of penholders and one pencil to do 
my work with,” he said. “ I don’t think Bonner 
and Mason would be willing to supply me with 
private stationery.” 

Ormond stared at him in amazement. “ I’m 
afraid you’ve come to the wrong place, and you 
might have told me before I wasted my good 
cigarettes,” said he. 

“ I would if I’d known,” said Benson, and 
went back to his desk more disgusted than ever 
with what he had seen of his new profession. 
He had a good many faults, but he shrank from 
anything approaching dishonesty. Presently he 
returned Ollit the calculations he had been 
checking. 


48 


AT BONNER AND MASON’S 


“ You have worked out most of the fractions 
as wholes, which makes a small difference in the 
total. I have marked the correct amounts in 
pencil,” he said. 

Ollit glanced at the papers, and flung them 
back to him. “ Then you can rub the alterations 
out again. If you had known anything of this 
business you wouldn’t have been such a fool,” 
said he. “ Always stick on every trifle buyers 
aren’t likely to notice, and make it even money. 
These things have got to be worked out cleverly.” 

“ Don’t the purchasers object? ” said Benson, 
realizing that with Ollit cleverness implied petty 
trickery. 

“ Not often,” said Ollit. “ It’s scarcely worth 
writing about, and the small country dealers 
don’t always weigh their goods. Now get on 
with this lot and don’t bother me.” 

Benson had no difficulty with the calculations. 
He even fancied that a good deal of the work 
in that office could have been done by any boy 
in the lower forms of his school, and he could 
listen to the hum of voices about him as he pro- 
ceeded. Suddenly, however, there was an un- 
usual silence, and he saw a burly man with a 
masterly face striding angrily into the office. 

“ Don’t let him see you looking,” said the Shah, 
who sat close by. “ It’s Bonner, and he turned 
out two fellows the last time he had full steam 
up.” 


49 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


Benson went on with his work, but he could 
not well help hearing what followed, because 
when he was angry his new master did not greatly 
care whether he was heard all over the ofl&ce or 
out in the street. He banged the paper he held 
down upon a desk, and Benson smiled when, 
during the momentary stillness which followed, 
he heard the scratching of very industrious 
pens. 

“ This is the stationer’s bill, Watkins,” said 
an angry voice, and the speaker appeared breath- 
less with indignation. “ It convinces me that 
you have encouraged my clerks to indulge in 
shameful extravagance. Six dozen pencils in 
three months. No business would stand it. Are 
you trying to ruin us? Kearns of foolscap, stacks 
of blotting-paper. You must light the fires with 
it; and here’s the crowning iniquity. One piece 
of India rubber, fourpence. Fourpence for a bit 
of India rubber — ^you hear me? ” 

Benson could tell that Watkins was badly 
frightened by the way he spoke. “We are as 
economical as we can be, sir,” he said. “ When- 
ever you sharpen a pencil it wears away, and Mr. 
Ollit would have one of the dearest pieces of 
rubber.” 

“ If this is your notion of economy I shall have 
to consider whether we can’t find a man with 
sounder ones. Why ” — and Bonner shouted in 
his indignation — “ can’t you use your pencils 
60 


AT BONNER AND MASON’S 


blunt? So Ollit would not be satisfied with less 
than a fourpenny eraser? ” 

Benson felt inclined to chuckle as he heard 
heavy footsteps approaching, and saw his task- 
master endeavor to appear desperately busy. 
Ollit positively quailed when Bonner halted be- 
hind him, and Benson fancied the Shah looked 
very uneasy, which was perhaps natural consid- 
ering that he had half-a-dozen of the firm’s pencils 
in his pocket at the moment. 

“ Where is the piece of India rubber I am told 
you insisted on?” asked a deep voice, and Ollit, 
who changed color, proceeded to fumble in his 
drawer in frantic haste. 

No eraser was forthcoming, but unfortunately 
the shuffling of the papers laid bare the backs of 
two detective novels, and Bonner caught the 
shrinking clerk by the shoulder. 

“ That is how you spend the time I pay you 
for. Let me catch you with another book, and 
out you go. How do you expect to be good for 
anything if you waste your time in reading?” 
said he. “ Where is the India rubber? ” 

“ I must have lost it, sir,” answered the trem- 
bling Ollit. 

“ Then you can stay here — half the night, if 
necessary — and find it after your work is done,” 
said his master. “ When you do, cut it into four 
pieces, and place each where anybody who wants 
an eraser can get it. If I see another piece 
51 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


down in the next bill I’ll discharge whoever 
asked for it.” 

Bonner stalked away fuming, and Benson, 
who felt divided between astonishment and 
amusement, saw that the Shah was laughing and 
Ollit looked cowed and sullen. 

“ I suppose you took it home,” said the former ; 
and Ollit growled his answer: 

“ I didn’t. I gave it to Minnie.” 

“ Then,” said Ormond, “ you’ll have to do 
without your dinner and buy another. Minnie 
never gives things back when she once gets them. 
If Bonner remembers, he’ll come round and 
count those pieces to-morrow.” 

“ Who is Minnie? ” asked Benson, and he could 
hardly repress a smile at his companion’s enthu- 
siastic answer. 

“ The lady correspondent. I’ll introduce you, 
and you’ll see a girl with some style about her; 
but she mayn’t snub you when she sees you know 
me.” 

Ollit scowled at the speaker, who, so Benson 
fancied, had intended to annoy him, for there 
certainly was no superfluous style about the 
Shah, but while they wrangled Mr. Watkins shut 
his desk with a bang, and Ollit told Benson that 
he could now take forty minutes for his dinner. 
Benson went out and wandered through the 
streets in the rain, looking for a place where 
he could dine economically, because he realized 
52 


AT BONNER AND MASON’S 

that although his uncle allowed him a little, it 
would be difficult to exist upon his wages. At 
last he entered a long tawdrily furnished room 
crowded with young men, who he surmised 
were employed in the surrounding offices. They 
were packed round little tables, and most of 
them had pale, unhealthy faces, and were either 
shabbily or too showily dressed. Benson, how- 
ever, could neither find a place nor attract the 
attention of any of the waitresses, who pushed 
past him with their plates and trays. One he 
ventured to speak to regarded him with contemp- 
tuous indifference, a second pointed to somebody 
else, w’hile Benson was on the point of retiring 
to the streets, when he caught sight of Ormond 
sitting at a table in a corner. When he saw him 
the Shah neatly jerked the chair from under the 
boy beside him. 

“ Come along, Benson. Here’s a seat for you,” 
said he. 

“ And where am I to sit? ” asked his victim 
resentfully. 

“ You can camp in the coal bucket,” said the 
Shah. “ Besides having overeaten yourself, you 
were due back in your own shop ten minutes ago. 
My son, beware of gluttony, and remember that 
punctuality is a great virtue.” 

One or two of those about laughed, for the 
Shah appeared to be a recognized wit, and seeing 
the boy addressed put on his coat, Benson took 
his place. 53 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


“ I’ve finished my lot, and can’t afford an- 
other,” said the Shah. “ I suppose you’ve ordered 
nothing, and don’t know what to get. We’re all 
hard up at Bonner’s, and you had better make a 
three shilling composition ! ” 

“ What is that? ” asked Benson, and the Shah 
chuckled. 

“ It’s a speculation,” he said. “ You pay your 
money, and take what you get. Sometimes it’s 
sardines, sometimes lost dogs, which is sausage, 
or Chicago horse. If you don’t come out you get 
nothing back, but it will save you twopence daily, 
which is a shilling a week, and when you’re 
working for Bonner and Mason that’s a consid- 
eration.” 

“It is,” said Benson. “Who am I to ask?” 
and the Shah imitated a person talking to a 
parrot. 

“ Polly, put the kettle on. Pretty Poll,” he 
said, and a waitress stopping behind him con- 
trived to spill some coffee on his head. 

“ Well, Mr. Impudence,” she said. 

The Shah wiped his sprinkled necktie, and a 
companion regarded the partly empty cup rue- 
fully. 

“ That’s too bad, Polly. You might have done 
it with somebody else’s coffee,” said he. 

“ He ought to consider it an honor,” said the 
Shah gallantly. “ Polly, this gentleman is an 
especial friend of mine, and will pay weekly. 
54 


AT BONNEE AND MASON’S 


You needn’t be afraid of filling up his cup or an 
extra scrape of butter,” 

The girl studied Benson with a curiosity which 
made him uneasy. 

“ I wouldn’t have thought it,” said she, and 
the Shah’s companions grinned. “ Well, if he’s 
from your office I’ll see what I can do. You 
don’t get too much there, do you? ” 

She moved away laughing, but not before 
Benson had noticed that there was a trace of 
sympathy in her voice. This made him the more 
uncomfortable, and he positively blushed when, 
as the girl returned with a tray, Ormond said, 
“ That’s what comes of being introduced by me. 
She has brought you an extra half-sardine, and 
four lumps of sugar instead of three,” 

Benson did not observe that the girl, seeing 
his confusion, slipped away instead of bantering 
the Shah, as she had clearly intended, or he 
might have learned that his new acquaintances 
were not altogether wanting in kindliness or del- 
icacy. 

As it was, remembering the obsequious Indian 
servants in his mother’s house at Simla, and 
the last occasion he had dined in an English 
city, when his father took him to a London club, 
it distressed him to think that he had excited the 
pity of a waitress in such a place as the one he 
sat in. 

The crockery was thick and clumsy, but the 
55 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


roll, pat of butter, sardines, and coffee were good, 
and Benson made a better meal than he expected, 
and then he went back to the office. He had little 
leisure for reflection when he got there, for Ollit 
handed him a book in which names and rows of 
figures were duplicated on flimsy paper. “ Make 
out those invoices,” he said ; “ they must go to- 
night, or hy the first post to-morrow.” 

Benson worked steadily, and it was after six 
o’clock when he had finished and passed the 
sheets to his companion. Ollit initialed several, 
and then pointed to the names of the coasting 
steamers the goods had been forwarded by 
written across the bottom of some of the longest. 
He smiled unpleasantly as he ran his penknife 
up the middle of them. 

“ You can do that lot over again,” said he. 
“ We always put the forwarding particulars at 
the beginning. There is a place for them under 
the heading.” 

Benson felt the blood surge to his forehead as 
he noticed Ollit’s satisfaction over his wasted 
labor. He felt tolerably certain it was not 
important where he put the particulars, and 
reflected that, as he was a beginner, full instruc- 
tions should have been given him before he com- 
menced. Still, he remembered that Ollit was his 
superior, and there was nothing to be gained by 
forcing a quarrel. Ollit stopped on his way 
out of the office. 


56 


AT BONNEE AND MASON’S 


“ You’ll show me those invoices properly made 
out first thing to-morrow, and you can go home 
when you have finished them. I’m going now,” 
said he. 

“ Never mind him,” said the Shah, who was 
putting on his coat. “ Nobody expects good 
manners from a baboon, but it’s a beastly shame. 
I heard Bonner order the last fellow to put 
those particulars where you did at the bottom.” 

Benson said nothing, though the blood rose to 
his face again, but two hours had passed before 
he finished his task, and went out into the rain 
to look for lodgings. 

The streets were still crowded with hurrying 
men, who had evidently homes to go to, but 
very few of them seemed inclined to answer his 
questions, and Benson felt very forlorn as he 
tramped through the dripping town, guided by 
the advice of friendly policemen. At last, when 
almost wet through, he reached a house with a 
card in the window, where an untidy woman who 
admitted him took him up several fiights of stairs 
before she showed him into a shabby room, out 
of which another opened. There were holes in 
the carpet, the light flickerd, and, with its worn- 
out chairs and threadbare sofa, the place looked 
cheerless and desolate. Still, Benson was too 
tired and dejected to search any further. 

“ I’ll take the two rooms for a week, but don’t 
know whether I shall stay longer,” he said, when 
57 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


he heard the landlady’s terms. “ Could I have 
the fire lighted and anything to eat? ” 

“ I generally let them by the month,” said the 
woman, looking at him dubiously. ‘‘ Have you 
any luggage? ” 

“ It is at the station,” said Benson, flushing as 
he guessed the meaning of her question. “ I can’t 
take the rooms for more than a week at present, 
but I’ll pay the rent now if you like.” 

“ I would,” said the woman drily. “ You can 
have some bread and butter, but nothing else 
at this hour, when the girl’s out. Light the fire 
if you want it. Coals are sixpence a bucket 
extra.” 

Benson laid the money on the table, and when 
she went out sat down dejectedly in a chair 
with broken springs. He was damp and tired, 
but had few coins to spare, and decided that with 
coal at sixpence a bucketful he could not afford 
a fire. He ate little, and finding the butter 
rancid, thrust the un tempting food aside; then 
stared at the black grate, wondering, if his life 
was to resemble that day, how long he could 
endure it. He remembered the luxury in which 
he had lived in India, and the kindness shown 
him at Oulton manse, and wondered how he had 
ever grumbled at the comforts he had been pro- 
vided with at school. Still, it vms scarcely a 
week since he had heard of his father’s death, 
and the crushing sense of loss he felt rendered 
68 


AT BONNEE AND MASON’S 


him less heedful of minor trials, so taking off his 
soaked boots he went into the next room and 
sought forgetfulness in sleep. 

It was long before he found it. The events 
of the past week repeated themselves over and 
over again, until when his senses grew hazy he 
fancied he was lying on the sunny cliffs at Oul- 
ton looking out to sea. He could smell the wild 
thyme, and see the brown-sailed boats creep out 
of harbor, leaving rippling lines behind them on 
the blue. Mrs. Wilkie w’as smiling at him as he 
told her of his hopes for the future, but her face 
seemed to change to that of the waitress Polly, 
and the grating speech of Ollit roused him from 
his dream. Then he lay for a time with fingers 
clenched, knowing that the bright days had gone 
for ever, and on the morrow he must take up the 
burden of life again. At last gentle sleep 
brought him -a respite from sorrow's and fears. 


69 


CHAPTER V 


A FRIEND IN NEED 

I T was Saturday evening when Benson sat 
moodily in his lodgings over an uninviting 
meal. The tablecloth was dirty, the tea almost 
cold, and the bill which lay in front of him had 
taken his appetite away. Benson regarded it 
with blank dismay, for though he had not been 
able to eat part of the food set before him, it 
was evident that he was living beyond his means. 

“ This will never do,” he said, ringing the bell. 
“ After paying that woman I shall have almost 
nothing to go on with. Even supposing I went 
without my dinner, I couldn’t do without boots 
and clothes.” 

He looked round the comfortless room with a 
shiver of apprehension, wondering what cheaper 
quarters would be like, and as he did so the 
landlady came in. She was a big, hard-faced 
woman, and the black smear on her face did not 
improve her appearance. Benson paid his bill, 
and when she had counted the silver twice over, 
said quietly, “ I shall not want the rooms after 
to-night.” 

“ I suppose they’re not good enough for you,” 
60 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


said the woman, with a contemptuous stare. 
“ Well, it won’t be any great loss, but I want a 
week’s rent instead of notice now.” 

Benson listened quietly, though there was a 
red flush in his face. “ The truth is, that I can’t 
afford what you charge me, and you are mis- 
taken about the notice,” said he. “ I took the 
rooms for a week only, but it can’t be up at the 
earliest before to-morrow.” 

The landlady’s voice rose high in anger. “ I’m 
not going to be cheated by any dressed-up young 
swindler,” she said. “ Saturday night is the end 
of the week, as everybody knows, and if you don’t 
pay me. I’ll seize your clothes.” 

Benson knew there was nothing to be gained 
by disputing with an angry woman, and, lock- 
ing the bedroom door, he put the key in his 
pocket. 

“I shall go as soon as I am ready,” he said; 
“ but if anybody touches my portmanteau I shall 
send for the police.” 

He did not remember what the landlady said, 
but sat down with an aching head when she dis- 
appeared, banging the door behind her, and his 
reflections were the reverse of pleasant. The 
week spent in the service of Bonner and Mason 
had only increased his dislike for it, but he had 
heard that there were hundreds of men seeking 
in vain for employment in that crowded town. 
He was too proud to appeal to his uncle, and 
61 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


guessed it would be useless in any case, and he 
could only search for cheaper quarters and en- 
deavor to master his dislike for the office. He had 
thought of the sea, but knew there was no hope 
of being more than an ordinary seaman unless he 
could pay fifty pounds for an apprentice’s pre- 
mium, w'hich, as he did not possess fifty shillings, 
was out of the question. 

Then as he leaned back wearily in his chair 
memories of the past crowded upon him. He 
remembered the stately Indian sergeant who told 
him wonderful stories as he walked beside him 
holding his pony’s bridle, and how he would sit 
with his mother on the veranda through the long, 
hot evenings, watching the bright tropic moon- 
light silver the climbing deodars. Then his 
thoughts w'andered to a sunny cricket field 
flanked by towering elms. There his comrades 
looked up to him as captain of the team, and 
he could picture the eager lads in trim flannels 
waiting his word on match-days, and the lines of 
spectators on the emerald turf behind. This 
picture was replaced by that of wffiite surf flash- 
ing on weedy rocks, and a fleet of brown-sailed 
boats beating out to sea. He could hear the brine 
frothing beneath the bows and feel the sting of 
the spray as he had done when he lay along the 
thwarts chatting with some kindly fisherman. 

But he also remembered that his father had 
told him all life was a struggle, and that there 
62 


A FRIEND IN NEED 

had been patient sadness as well as resolution in 
his steadfast eyes, while a strangled groan es- 
caped him as he thought of the lonely valley 
where Benson Sahib, who had never flinched 
from the task set before him, rested at last. Still 
the thought brought him courage, for he could 
at least prove himself Benson Sahib’s son, and 
he felt comforted a little when he heard the 
landlady’s voice raised again, A laugh he recog- 
nized answered it, and next minute Ormond, 
who caught his foot in a hole in the carpet, 
reeled into the room and fell over a chair. Ben- 
son laughed a little, but the Shah grinned rue- 
fully as he got up rubbing his shin and 
endeavored to button his burst collar. 

“ That’s another sixpence gone, and it’s not 
so funny after all,” said he. “ I bought the thing 
yesterday at a sale, and don’t think they’d take 
it back now because it doesn’t fit me. I came 
round to see how you were getting on, and your 
landlady didn’t want to let me in. Asked me 
what my name was, and when I told her the 
Shah of Persia, started cackling like a bewildered 
hen. I fancy she’s at it still.” 

He seated himself on the table, and Benson 
could not help another smile as he glanced at 
him. The tufts of hair stood up more aggres- 
sively than ever from the back of his head, though 
the rest had been abundantly oiled. The burst 
collar projected from his neck, and his clothes 
63 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


of large check pattern looked too small for him. 
Benson, who was learning that appearances are 
of no great value, was, however, glad to see him, 
and the Shah smiled back at him encouragingly. 

“ Only finishing your tea now — and how are 
you getting on? ” said he. 

“ Ollit found me work to do as I was preparing 
to go home, and I’m afraid I’m not getting on at 
all,” said Benson. “ I’ve just quarreled with my 
landlady because I can’t afford to pay her bills. 
She seemed angry.” 

“ I should call it rampaging savage, or some- 
thing else. That woman isn’t a teetotaler,” said 
the Shah. “ Well, if you won’t be offended, I 
thought you were flying too high. Have you any 
place to go to? ” 

“ I was going out to look for one,” said Benson. 

‘‘ I wouldn’t,” said the Shah, with somewhat 
unusual diffidence. “ I was thinking, I’m not 
like you exactly, and you’re not like me, so what 
one didn’t know the other would, you see, and 
I’ve been wondering whether it would suit you 
to share my cabin with me. It would split our 
expenses, and Mrs. Smith is as kind as a mother 
to me. I’m very comfortable, and this is my last 
week’s bill. It’s so uncommonly hard to pay 
them that I keep them.” 

He laid down a crumpled sheet of paper, and 
Benson looked astonished. 

“ It’s considerably less than my own, and 
64 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


I’ve been very uncomfortable,” said he. “ Still, 
I might inconvenience you.” 

“ Not a bit,” said the Shah eagerly. You see, 
I’ve taken to you ever since you threw Ollit 
against the desk, because I often wanted to do it 
myself. His place is in a pig-sty or a menagerie. 
iW e are going to be friends.” 

Benson felt grateful, and slightly ashamed. 
There was no doubt that he needed a friend, and 
he had found one in his necessity. He was to 
learn afterwards in Ormond’s company that it is 
when things are blackest hope appears, for the 
friendship which commenced that evening was to 
stand a bitter test. 

“ I should be very glad,” he said, a trifle 
awkwardly. 

Benson packed his portmanteau, but when he 
went down the stairs carrying it, the landlady 
appeared ready for another explosion in the hall. 

“ So you’re slinking off without paying your 
debts to swindle somebody else,” she said, and 
while Benson strode past, the Shah made her a 
little bow. 

“ My friend is a very quiet young man, ma’am, 
and this place is too grand for him,” said he. 
“ I’m taking him into another where it’s more 
homely and — not quite so dirty.” 

He did not wait for an answer, which was 
probably fortunate, for the door was slammed 
behind him with a violence which propelled him 
65 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


down several of the steps. He laughed uproar- 
iously, and Benson smiled. 

“ It is the first time I have ever been turned 
out,” said the latter. “ Still, I don’t feel un- 
happy.” 

“ It’s nothing when you’re used to it. I’ve been 
turned out of lots of places,” the Shah said 
airily. “ Here’s a tram coming.” 

They caught a passing tram-car, and Benson 
sat silent as they were whirled past long rows 
of blazing shop-windows through the crowded 
streets. Ormond, however, talked enough for a 
dozen, and appeared not only to know the grimy 
city’s past history, but able to predict its future, 
while Benson listened with interest, for the Shah 
was shrewd, if he had evidently had little edu- 
cation. At last they alighted at the end of a 
quiet street, and Ormond stopped outside a 
house. 

“ I’ll put the bag in and talk to Mrs. Smith 
while you wait outside,” said he. “ I don’t want 
you to see the place until it’s all ready, and 
we’ll come home for supper. In the meantime 
you’re coming for a walk with me.” 

Benson, who allowed him to enter the house 
alone, noticed that there were neat white cur- 
tains in the windows, and that the doorsteps, 
as well as the bright brass knocker, had been 
polished diligently. He had ten minutes to in- 
spect them before the Shah returned, smiling. 

66 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


“ She’s satisfied, though I had to convince her 
you wouldn’t strike matches on the paint and 
nearly burn the place up by smoking in bed, as 
my last chum did,” he said. “Now, I’ll show 
you the river.” 

When they reached the landing-stage the Shah 
led his companion on to the upper deck of a 
ferry-boat, and Benson became interested as, 
with a splash of paddles, they slid out into the 
river. The stars were shining overhead, but a 
thin, drifting haze hung low down about the 
surging tide, and dimmed the long rows of lights 
that converged towards the one dark gap which 
Ormond said was the sea. A sharp wind blew 
up-stream, and Benson bared his forehead to it 
delightedly. There was also much to look at and 
listen to. Whistles hooted, paddles splashed, 
and the thumping of engines came out of the 
haze, while twinkling specks of red and green 
flitted by and tall spars towered above them 
against the clearer sky. The ferry-boat heaved a 
little as she met the swell working in from sea. 

“ That’s the inward New York mail-boat,” 
said the Shah, as proudly as though he owned 
her, when they slid beneath the lofty side of a 
great anchored hull pierced with a threefold tier 
of yellow lights. “ She came up this tide, and 
they’re working cargo in the stream.” 

The glare of a big electric light beat down 
upon the ferry-boat, and Benson had a brief 
67 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


glimpse of men toiling feverishly in a maze of 
running chain. They were hidden next moment 
by a wreath of whirling steam, and he saw only 
the two huge funnels rising above them like 
castle towers as they swept on under the liner’s 
stern. Hardly had they done so than the Shah 
pointed into the darkness before them. 

A great black bow with a shaft of yellow radi- 
ance high above it and another of crimson below 
rose out of the gloom, increasing in size until the 
dusky side beyond it was plain to view. There 
were no rows of lights in this vessel, but it seemed 
to Benson that she was more majestic in her 
darkness and silence as, with only a boil of 
waters to mark her passage, she came on resist- 
lessly through the surging tide until a tremen- 
dous blast from her whistle almost deafened him. 

“ A ten-thousand-ton Boston cargo-boat full 
of new wheat,” said the Shah. “ It’s curious to 
think that grain was growing in Minnesota, five 
thousand miles away, six weeks ago, and you’ll 
be invoicing part of it to English millers in a day 
or two. The boat on the starboard side is loaded 
with wheat from India.” 

Benson felt a curious thrill as they slid past 
the other steamer. That low-fioating hull and 
tall black funnel had been blistered by the tropic 
sun and lain under the moonlight on the luke- 
warm heave of Indian harbors. Barefooted 
coolies had swarmed about those decks, chatter- 
68 


A FEIEND IN NEED 


ing in once familiar tongues, and Benson even 
fancied he could see the sun-baked earth rolling 
dustily behind the bullock plows. 

“ These ships set one thinking,” said the Shah. 
“ Sometimes when I’m extracting from the ware- 
house books I dream about the men who grew the 
grain, and while I wonder how they live and 
whether they work as hard as we do, the office 
gets choky and small. It makes one long to go 
out yonder to places where the sun shines and 
men drive the plows. It wasn’t by scribbling 
in offices Englishmen laid the foundations of our 
commerce in the early days, and laid them so 
well that now our ships bring food for us from 
all round the world. But thinking those things 
doesn’t pay, because I smudge the papers, and 
Watkins makes me stay late and do them over 
again.” 

Benson was astonished. He knew the longing 
well, but did not expect to find such thoughts 
in the mind of his companion, which was foolish 
of him, because, while all cannot gratify it, that 
desire is part of the inheritance of most English- 
men. 

“ Don’t say any more,” he said almost fiercely. 
“ Do you think I don’t feel it, too? But what’s 
the use of wishing? We are neither farmers nor 
workmen, and they don’t want clerks in any 
new country.” 

The Shah laughed a little. 

69 


“ ‘ Where there’s 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


a will there’s a way,’ and I don’t see any reason 
why I shouldn’t try farming, too, some day,” he 
said simply. “ I’m saving two shillings every 
week, and have some pounds in the bank already. 
That’s why I’m stopping at Bonner’s, and not 
because I’m fond of him ; but we’ll talk of some- 
thing else if it worries you.” 

When the Shah was started he talked a good 
deal, and Benson, who found most of his views 
original, hardly noticed they had left the boat 
until he found himself plodding through loose 
sand with the sound of the sea about him and 
the lights of the Mersey fading behind. The wind 
which stirred his blood swept his cares away, 
and his courage came back to him as they 
tramped on across the silent sands, and he felt 
distinctly sorry when the Shah said it was time 
to turn back again. It was, in fact, a little more 
than time, for when they reached the foot of a 
low sandstone promontory a strip of dark water 
lapped about it, cutting off their path. Ormond 
sat down and took off his boots and stockings, 
while Benson, who had intended to wade through 
as he was, remembered that he might find diffi- 
culty in providing his own apparel now. 

“ Seven and sixpence these shoes cost, me, with 
nothing extra for brown-paper soles,” said the 
Shah. “ It would mean a month’s savings gone 
if they melted off, and you can’t expect too much 
from socks bought at a sale for sixpence-half- 
70 


A FEIEND IN NEED 

penny. By worse luck we can’t go round, because 
the bloated capitalist who lives up on top has put 
up beastly spiky fences nobody can climb. We’re 
a long-suffering people to stand it. Don’t fresh 
air and scenery belong to everybody? ” 

“When you can only get them in another 
man’s garden I hardly think they do,” said Ben- 
son, laughing, and the Shah answered scorn- 
fully : 

“ That’s one of your aristocratic prejudices, 
and you want to begin at the beginning. What 
right has that man to a garden when I haven’t 
one?” said he. “Now keep your mind open, 
and I’ll show you where you’re wrong ! ” 

He trod upon a sharp shell, and broke off in 
a wrathful howl, after which he commenced to 
grope in the water with his hands. “ What are 
you doing? ” said Benson. 

“ Looking for a nice big pebble,” said the Shah. 
“ I could pitch it into that fellow’s conservatory 
if I could find one.” 

“ I can’t see what good that would do to any- 
body, and you might get locked up,” said Ben- 
son. “ It would be wiser to go on. The tide is 
rising.” 

. They waded in, and the Shah abused all prop- 
erty owners savagely when the water soaked the 
trousers he had rolled to his knees. It, however, 
shoaled swiftly, and he forgot his grievances as 
they raced barefooted across the sands towards 
71 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


the pier. It was late when they reached Liver- 
pool, but the Shah stopped to buy a tiny bunch 
of flowers from a raggedly dressed child, and 
Benson noticed that he slipped an extra coin into 
her little grimy hand. 

“ I dare say the poor thing’s hungry, and the 
flowers will please little Elsie,” he said shyly. 
“ She’s Mrs. Smith’s cripple, and fond of them, 
you see.” 

Mrs. Smith met them at the door, and Benson 
was pleasantly surprised when he saw her. She 
was a thin, gray-haired woman with kindly eyes, 
and looked at him keenly when he made her a 
little bow. 

“ I hope you will be comfortable, though we 
are very homely folks,” said she. “ Mr. Ormond, 
you will And everything ready.” 

Benson followed his comrade upstairs, and 
stared when he entered a room under the roof. 
It was lighted by a big brass lamp, and an oil 
stove with red glasses burned in one comer. A 
bright metal teapot and a frying-pan fllled with 
sausages stood on the top of the stove, and a 
snowy cloth covered the trimly laid table. There 
were no framed pictures on the wall, but the 
colored plates of troops in action and sea pieces 
from illustrated papers showed some taste in 
selection. The place was bright and cheerful, 
and Benson sighed with pure satisfaction as he 
dropped into a steamer’s chair. 

72 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


“ This is my home,” said Ormond, with an air 
of pride. “ That lamp came out of a steamer, 
and I bought it because it made the place look 
like a cabin. It’s as good as gas, and cheaper. 
Got the stove yonder at a bargain, and do my own 
cooking. It won’t often run to a sausage supper, 
but one doesn’t bring home a new chum every 
evening. While I’m making the coffee, look into 
your room yonder.” 

Benson went into the next room, and though 
it was so small that he could scarcely turn round 
in it, the coverings of the iron cot were spotless. 
The towels that hung over the rail were in the 
same condition, and his clothes had been laid 
out precisely folded upon a chair. The tiny 
bedroom could not have looked more inviting. 
He came back with a curious sense of thank- 
fulness, and found a little white-faced girl peep- 
ing in through the door. 

“ Aunty says you’re to ask if you wish for 
anything,” she said, and her eyes grew bright 
with pleasure when the Shah clumsily held out 
the flowers. 

“ They’re very poor ones, Elsie, but you shall 
have a bunch as big as a cabbage when my ship 
comes in,” he said. 

The child disappeared, and the Shah laughed 
awkwardly. “ I hope you’ll like the place, Ben- 
son. Elsie and I are great friends,” said he. 

“ Like it? ” said Benson. After my last 
73 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


quarters this is delightful, and I don’t quite 
know how to show my gratitude to you.” 

“ That’s all right,” said Ormond simply. ‘‘ I 
took to you. This will do in the meantime, and 
we’ll go out together and do the kind of things 
those fellows are doing yonder some day. I like 
that fellow, though I’m generally down on the 
aristocracy.” 

He pointed with a greasy finger to a picture of 
a young officer clenching a smoking revolver 
amidst a group of wounded men, and as his eyes 
lit up, Benson fancied that although the Shah 
was neither soldierly nor aristocratic, there was 
a curious similarity between the two faces. Nor 
was he mistaken, for the spirit which has made 
England what she is was stamped on both of 
them, and there was under the surface no great 
difference between the two, though one was a 
leader of armed men and the other earned his 
living in a stuffy office. The Shah was in due 
time to prove that he, too, could dare and suffer. 

Benson, however, winced at the sight of the 
heroic figure in his nation’s uniform, and his 
voice was slightly husky as he answered, “ I 
hope we shall.” 

“ It’s a bargain ; and now we’ll get supper,” 
said the Shah. “ Don’t lean too hard on that 
table. I bought it at an auction, and it’s pretty 
to look at, but if you put any weight upon it the 
leg comes off.” 


74 


CHAPTEE VI 
ollit’s suepeisb 


I T was a busy day at Bonner and Mason’s when 
Miss Minnie Lee did Benson a kindness that 
led to further unpleasantness between him and 
Ollit. Miss Lee occupied a separate office of her 
own, and Benson had once or twice opened a 
door or carried a heavy book for her, while the 
girl was grateful for the small courtesies, which 
were unusual at Bonner and Mason’s. On the 
day in question she was passing through the office 
during the dinner-hour, and saw Benson still 
busy at his desk. She noticed that his face was 
pale and his eyes were heavy. As it happened, 
Ollit had gone out ten minutes earlier, leaving 
Benson, who had a headache, a pile of papers. 

“ Three copies of each must be posted to-night, 
and they should keep you until eight o’clock. 
Press copies won’t do,” said he. 

Benson, who guessed that Ollit should have 
done the work himself, was too proud to appeal 
to Mr. Watkins, so, sacrificing the time he was 
entitled to at noon, he bent over the papers until 
the correspondent spoke to him. Miss Lee was 
75 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


a few years his senior, and possessed a self- 
reliant manner, as well as a somewhat pretty 
face and pale, fluffy hair. She had also, some of 
the clerks said, a temper. 

“ Why haven’t you gone for your dinner? ” 
said she. 

“ I have these papers to copy for to-night’s 
post,” said Benson. 

Miss Lee picked up a number of the longest. 
‘‘ You don’t look well, and it is Ollit’s work,” said 
she. “Why don’t you tell Watkins, and go 
home? ” 

“ I have a slight headache,” said Benson, 
whose temples throbbed painfully. “ There 
would only be double work to-morrow if I went 
home.” 

“ That isn’t why you are staying,” said the 
girl, with a keen glance. “ You can’t in any 
case complete all these papers to-day. Look in 
my basket presently and you’ll And this lot 
ready.” 

“ It is very kind of you, but I cannot let you 
do my work,” said Benson, and Miss Lee laughed 
as she moved away. “ I don’t think you can stop 
me. The machine will do three at once,” said 
she. 

Though Benson felt grateful, he would have 
preferred to struggle on unassisted, but Miss 
Lee was a determined young lady, and closed the 
door of her office when he asked for the papers. 

76 


OLLIT’S SUKPRISE 


It happened accordingly that when Ollit came 
round as the others were going home, he found 
Benson busy addressing envelopes. He tore one 
of them open, and then laughed maliciously as 
he saw the typewritten sheet inside. 

“ That is how you have done it. I didn’t think 
you’d beg a girl to help you,” said he. 

Benson was about to answer that he had not 
done so, but remembered that this might not be 
considerate towards the lady. “ There is noth- 
ing to prevent typewritten sheets being sent,” 
he said. 

“ I’m sorry there isn’t,” said Ollit. “ Still, 
that doesn’t make any difference in what a decent 
person would think of you. Any one else would 
have been above getting his work done by a girl 
who has plenty of her own already.” 

Benson stood up. “ I’ll listen to what you tell 
me about the business because I’m paid to do it,” 
he said, “ but if you go a step further you will 
regret it.” 

Ollit was the heavier, and should have been the 
stronger of the two, but he had never hardened 
his muscles and trained himself in endurance by 
manly exercise. So, malicious and satisfied with 
himself as he was, he changed his attitude after 
a glance at Benson’s resolute face. 

“ Very well, if that’s your line,” said he. “ It 
is, however, my business to see these things are 
right, and you haven’t shown them to me.” 

77 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


Opening his knife, he ripped up a bundle of 
envelopes, and, pretending to glance at their 
contents, flung them down again. “ You can re- 
address them, and will remember next time,” 
said he. 

Benson said nothing, though his face was very 
white when he commenced upon a fresh heap of 
envelopes, and as he finished the last one Miss 
Lee came out of her office. 

“ That was a piece of pure malice. Why did 
you stand it? ” said she. 

“ One has to stand a good deal at Bonner and 
Mason’s,” said Benson wearily. 

“ Are you afraid of Ollit? ” said the girl in a 
contemptuous tone. “ I suppose you told him I 
insisted on copying the sheets for you.” 

Benson colored a little. “ I did not,” he said 
quietly. “ And I don’t think I’m afraid of Ollit. 
He is, unfortunately, my superior, you see.” 

Miss Lee looked at him curiously, and then 
laughed a little. “ I think Mr. Ollit will get a 
surprise some day,” said she. “ Now, after be- 
having so nicely, you can carry this parcel to the 
tram for me.” 

They went down the stairs together, and when 
Benson had stopped a tram-car, Ormond, who 
had been waiting for him, came up. As he in- 
sisted on asking questions, Benson told him part 
of what had happened, and the Shah grew vehe- 
jnent with indignation. 

78 


OLLIT’S SURPRISE 


“ Quit’s a perfect beast, and Minnie’s splen- 
did,” he said, when he had cooled down a trifle. 
“ Yon should have heard her take the fellow down 
at Christmas. He had the impudence to send 
her a present, and she met him outside the office 
and gave him a packet. ‘ If these are your ini- 
tials I must return you this,’ said Minnie, with 
the style of a duchess. ‘ I only take presents 
from my friends, and never on any occasion wear 
such things.’ ” 

“ How do you know she said that? ” asked 
Benson; and the Shah answered unblushingly : 

“ I was there and stopped to hear what it was 
all about, you see.” 

He broke off and turned crimson at the sight 
of Benson’s smile. “ Well, perhaps I shouldn’t 
have, but though I’m ignorant, you needn’t keep 
on reminding me,” said he. “ Of course Minnie 
laughs at me, but I knew Ollit’s style. It’s a 
low one, and I meant to smash him if he said 
anything that wasn’t nice to her.” 

“ Ollit is considerably bigger than you. Were 
you ever taught to box? ” asked Benson; and the 
Shah answered sullenly: 

“ I was never taught anything.” 

“ Then,” said Benson, “ I am very sorry I 
laughed. It was abominably rude of me.” 

“ Nobody can be right every time,” observed 
the Shah, recovering his good-humor. “ After 
this, Ollit will take the first opportunity of 
79 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

playing some beastly trick on you and Min- 
nie.” 

Benson was lying in the steamer’s chair that 
night when the Shah again became confidential. 
He sat with his slippers on the little oil stove, 
whose colored windows flung a soft red light 
across the room. It was dark except for this, for 
Benson, whose head still ached, had turned the 
lamp out. 

“ You have seen more than the rest of us, Hil- 
ford, and must have spoken to ladies — real great 
ladies,” he said thoughtfully. 

“ I saw one or two in India, but was only a 
child, though one offended me by giving me 
sweets,” said Benson, with a smile. “ Since then 
I can only recollect my mother and Mrs. Wilkie, 
and they were not rich or fashionable, if that is 
what you mean.” 

“ It isn’t,” Ormond said awkwardly. “ When- 
ever I want to say what I feel, I get stuck for 
words, which is where having no education 
bothers me. It’s the style you can’t buy with 
money, which some folks are born with or learn 
when they are very young, I mean. Now, for 
instance, take Miss Lee.” 

Benson tried to hide his astonishment with a 
jest. ‘‘ Miss Lee is older than you are, Persia,” 
he said mischievously. 

“ Of course ! ” answered Ormond, whose face 
grew a trifle flushed. “ I don’t mind you joking, 
80 


OLLIT’S SUEPRISE 


Hilford, because we are chums, but if one of the 
others had said it I’d have flung an inkpot at 
him. You see, I’m a nobody, and always will be. 
My father filled sacks in Bonner’s warehouse, and 
when he fell down a ladder, Bonner had to do 
something for me. Still, Minnie sets me think- 
ing of w'hat I would like to be. She’s so queenly, 
you see. Of course, she only laughs at me, but 
it does one good, don’t you think, to look up to 
somebody who is far above you, and when it’s 
possible do something to please them? ” 

Benson found it harder still to conceal the 
surprise he knew he must not show. The Shah 
looked strangely commonplace as he sat with the 
toe of one stocking projecting through the ragged 
carpet slipper he rested on the stove, while his 
ruffled hair stood upon end; but his face was 
solemn, and Benson realized dimly that the old 
knightly spirit of chivalry had been born in his 
companion. 

“ I think I understand you,” he said quietly. 
“ If I have hurt you by laughing at any time, you 
can set it down to my stupidity. I think you 
are considerably nearer the style you talk of 
than I am, Persia.” 

“ That’s absurd,” said Ormond impatiently. 
“ You go on steadily, always the same, doing the 
correct thing because it comes natural to you, 
while it’s confounded hard work for me. You 
see, there are two kinds of fellows in me. One 
81 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


wants to be like that officer in the picture, but 
when the other one sees an opportunity of nob- 
bling Bonner’s pencils or showing how one’s 
mistakes in the office were made by somebody 
else, he takes it. Afterwards I feel as mean as 
Ollit — and he’s a perfect beast, isn’t he? ” 

Benson smiled gravely. “ I don’t think the 
feeling is anything unusual. In fact, I expect 
it’s as old as the world is,” said he. 

“ I suppose it must be,” said Ormond, with a 
sigh. “ Anyway, I have talked long enough 
about things I know very little of, and I’ve got 
some stuff to read for the evening class. The 
man who wrote it must have meant to double 
anybody up who tried to understand him. 
Strikes me some of those writer fellows think it 
clever to mix things so you can’t tell what they’re 
getting at.” 

Benson lay back languidly in his chair, while 
the Shah groaned at intervals as he struggled 
with his book. He felt dejected and spiritless, 
and envied the half-taught boy who, dlled with 
vague aspirations, strove after that to which he 
might never attain. It struck Benson that the 
Shah would, however, be greatly the gainer, if, 
falling far short of what he aimed at, he made 
any progress at all, and it w'as with a sense of 
shame he realized that he himself was drifting 
apathetically. He disliked his task in the office. 
Captain Ogilvie was evidently dead, and there 
82 


OLLIT’S SURPRISE 


was no hope in the future. Growing reckless, 
he troubled himself about nothing, and realized 
with a shiver now and then that he was rapidly 
sinking to the level of those he had looked down 
upon. It was, however, well for Benson that 
while he drifted the events which were to rouse 
him to healthful action were ripening fast. 

It was Easter Monday when he accompanied 
the rest of the staff up the Cheshire Dee. The 
Shah and he would sooner have spent the day by 
themselves, but as every employee of Bonner and 
Mason brought his family or friends, and con- 
tracts were made for everything, the holiday was 
an economical one. As Easter was late that 
year it was a balmy day, and Benson recovered 
some of his old cheerfulness as he strolled 
through the great cathedral and quaint streets 
of Chester. They were thronged with boisterous 
pleasure-seekers, and bright sunlight gilded 
crumbling walls raised by men who died in the 
early days of English history, and hallowed 
stones which had rung to the tramp of the 
Roman legions. The historfc city was inter- 
esting, but after months spent in the stuffy office 
Benson drew in a great breath of delight as he 
stood beside the Dee. 

Green meadows rolled away on the one hand 
towards the distant hills of Wales; terraced 
gardens and pretty villas rose on the other. The 
trees along the bank were green with tender 
83 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


leaves, and the soft breeze was laden with the 
scents of spring. Boats passed up and down 
beneath him, dimpling, by the splash of oars, the 
glistening water until, foaming over a weir, it 
was lost in the shadows of a bridge whose piers 
were first raised two thousand years ago. Then, 
as he looked up-stream, the shining river led his 
eyes on into a fresh green land hung over by 
a sky of cloudless blue. It seemed to him a 
glimpse of another world after the smoky city. 

Benson surveyed it all delightedly until the 
Shah told him their boat was lying at the little 
pontoon stage, and he was stepping into the 
narrow skiff when he saw Miss Lee standing not 
far away, and Ollit with a mixed party about to 
get into a barge. 

“ Your friends have just gone on in the 
steamer, but there is plenty of room with us,” 
he heard Ollit say. 

Miss Lee did not answer, but looked at 
Ormond. “ I have missed my own party, and 
wonder if you have room for a passenger,” said 
she. 

The Shah turned crimson with pleasure, and 
nearly upset the boat, while Miss Lee surveyed 
his comrade with approval as he deftly handed 
her in. She had quick eyes, and noticed that the 
new straw hat and blue boating jacket became 
him. 


84 


OLLIT’S SUKPEISE 


“ Please sit down and take the yoke lines,” 
he said. “Now, Persia, we must endeavor to 
land our passenger soon after her friends.” 

Standing upright he drove the unsteady craft 
out, then dropped deftly into his place, and she 
shot away up river as he dipped the varnished 
sculls. The Shah seconded him to the best of 
his ability, and, though his sculls would sink too 
deep or foul his knuckles, they left the gardens 
behind them and slid past daisy-starred meadows 
into the green country. 

“ It is very pretty,” said Miss Lee, glancing 
about her. “ You row well, too. What is that 
embroidered on your jacket? It looks like a 
crest.” 

Benson checked a sigh. “It is my school 
boating badge. One can’t row well in an ordi- 
nary jacket, or I would not have put it on,” 
said he. 

“ It suits you,” said the girl. “ You went to 
a school where they wore those things and had 
boats of your own. Then what are you doing at 
Bonner and Mason’s? ” 

“ Earning my living,” said Benson, with a 
smile that had little amusement in it. 

Miss Lee frowned and glanced at the sunny 
meadows, which went sliding by. 

“ Doesn’t this sicken you of Bonner’s? ” she 
said. 


85 


THE YOUNG TEADEEg 


“ I’m afraid it would if I let it,” said Benson. 
“ But that would be foolish, wouldn’t it, when 
one could only get better again? ” 

The girl looked at him curiously. “ You 
needn’t tell me that. I know it better than you 
do, but you are a man,” said she. “ What was 
your father? ” 

“ A soldier, afterwards chosen for a special 
service,” said Benson sadly. 

Miss Lee nodded sympathetically, though her 
eyes sparkled. “ And can you do nothing better 
than the work Ollit gives you? ” she said. 

“ I haven’t the opportunity,” said Benson. 
“ What else could I do? ” 

The girl stretched her arm out vaguely 
towards the blue of the western sky. “Don’t 
you read at all? ” said she. “ They want men in 
the new countries yonder. Men who can row 
boats and ride wild horses. You can ride, 
too? ” 

“ I used to ride in India,” Benson commenced, 
and stopped awkwardly, while Miss Lee laughed. 

“ I thought so,” said she. “ So you were in 
India? Now, because I read a good deal, I begin 
to understand, and you are in the wrong place at 
Bonner’s. Why don’t you go out somewhere, and 
take the Shah with you? I know he has a fancy 
for being a pioneering hero, because he once told 
me so.” 

“ That’s all very well,” said Ormond, blushing 
86 


OLLIT’S SURPRISE 


painfully. “ The question is how to get there. 
Four pounds five shillings won’t take one very 
far, and Benson hasn’t even that. Have you, 
Ford?” 

“ It will probably be a long time before I own 
half of it,” said Benson, laughing. “ Persia is a 
positive usurer.” 

“ It’s no use talking,” said the Shah. “ One 
can’t do anything without money, and as to 
being a hero, it’s not fair to remind me if I did 
talk nonsense. I was excited that day, Miss 
Lee.” 

The girl laughed quietly. “ I am not making 
fun of you, Persia, and not quite convinced it 
was nonsense,” said she; and Ormond, blushing 
to the very roots of his hair, buried one oar and 
brought the boat’s gunwale level with the water. 

“ I think we had better mind our rowing,” said 
Benson, smiling. 

They went on by copse and meadow, and 
slipped through a valley, past a black-timbered 
ferry-house, until a stately hall rose up beyond 
the beeches of a park where deer were feeding and 
an iron bridge spanned the river. It was with 
reluctance that Benson ran the boat in at a ter- 
raced landing, and while he helped Miss Lee out, 
the barge, towed by a steam-launch, came up, and 
he saw Ollit’s gaze fixed upon them spitefully. 
He disregarded it, and only noticed Miss Lee’s 
exclamations of pleasure as she glanced about 
87 


THE YOUNG TEADBRS 


her. They had landed in a garden hemmed in 
by coppices which crept down to the river, and 
brilliant sunshine flooded all the still green hol- 
low. 

“ Thank you,” said the girl, as she moved 
towards her waiting friends, and the Shah sighed 
as he looked after her. 

“ The things she says make one think,” said 
he. “ Well, some day we’ll go out to those 
countries, too, but there’s no use worrying now. 
I’ll show you the deer and hall gardens if you’ll 
come with me.” 

Benson followed him, and for several hours 
they strolled delightedly about the river bank 
and park, though now and then Benson recalled 
in bitterness of spirit what Miss Lee had said. 
They were leaning over the iron bridge when he 
saw Ollit surrounded by a listening group be- 
low, and heard a burst of coarse laughter after 
something he said, though two of the bystanders 
moved disgustedly away. 

“ Did you catch that? ” said the Shah. “ He’s 
talking about you.” 

“ It will not harm me,” said Benson. “ No- 
body would care a great deal for the opinion of 
Ollit or his company.” 

“ Keep still,” said Ormond sharply. “ It’s 
sickening. Did you hear what the beggar said? ” 

Next moment he was startled by the change in 
his friend, for Benson stood bolt upright, quiver- 
88 


OLLIT’S SUEPRISE 


ing a little, while his eyes glittered and his color 
faded. What he had heard was part of a slight- 
ing remark concerning their companion. 

“ Don’t be rash,” said Ormond. “ He has got 
to be stopped, and I’m as mad as you, but there 
are a lot of them yonder, and you’d better think 
what you’re going to do.” 

“ Come and see,” said Benson grimly. “ I 
have endured a good deal from Ollit, but he has 
gone too far to-day, and Miss Lee shall not 
suffer by being seen in my company.” 

Ormond turned after him with a chuckle. 

“ It’s dangerous to kick a quiet man too hard. 
I’ve been expecting this,” said he. 

The group split apart when Benson strode 
with blazing eyes through the midst of it, and 
walked up to Ollit, who watched him with an 
assumption of amusement. 

“ What do you want? I’ve no orders for you 
to-day,” said he; and there was an approving 
guffaw from some of the bystanders, who com- 
menced to close in on the newcomer. 

“ Keep back,” said Ormond ; and two of the 
nearest recoiled before him, for they knew the 
Shah could be vicious when his blood was up. 

“ Thank you,” said Benson quietly. “ Now 
stand forward, Ollit, and tell your friends what 
you have said was a lie from the beginning.” 

Ollit was apparently not comfortable, but he 
answered roughly: 


89 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


Get out, and don’t bother me now. It’s bad 
enough to have to keep you in your place on 
working days.” 

He moved away a little, but again Benson 
stood before him, lithe, erect, and sinewy, with 
left foot slightly forward and left elbow drawn 
back, while those who watched him murmured 
expectantly. 

“ I’m not here to argue, Ollit,” he said. ‘‘ Tell 
them you are a liar and a slanderer — now.” 

Ollit was apparently more than a match for 
the speaker, but his shifty eyes sank under Ben- 
son’s gaze as he noted the muscular symmetry 
of his opponent’s figure. A determined man 
can do a great deal with his eyes, but it needed 
no great penetration to see that Benson was pre- 
pared to use other means if this failed, and his 
pose was unpleasantly suggestive of some skill 
in the art of self-defense. 

“ Suppose I don’t? ” he said sullenly ; and 
some of his former friends, noticing his weakness, 
commenced to jeer at him. 

“ You will be sorry,” said Benson grimly. 
“ The river is not far away ; but there is nothing 
to be gained by discussing that, because you are 
going to say, ‘ I apologize for the slanderous lies 
I told,’ after me.” 

Ollit glanced round at his acquaintances in 
desperation, but nobody appeared inclined to 
help him. 


90 


OLLIT’S SUEPKISE 

« I regret,” he mumbled ; but Benson checked 
him. 

“ Louder. I want all to hear,” said he. 

Ollit’s face was crimson, Benson’s white and 
still. 

“ I regret the — slanderous lie,” said the 
former, and broke off in a venomous hiss almost 
choking with mortification. 

“ You have all heard that,” said Benson, and 
without another glance at any of the party 
walked away, while the Shah strode after him 
with his head high in the air. Next minute 
he started as they came face to face with 
Minnie Lee, and the girl glanced at Benson 
sharply. 

“ What were you and Ollit disputing about 
yonder? ” said she. 

“ I am afraid I cannot tell you,” said Benson 
quietly. “ Persia, I want you to come along with 
me.” 

Miss Lee let them pass, and then laughed a 
little. “ As though I should have any difficulty 
in finding out,” said she. 

“ This is only the beginning of it,” said the 
Shah, when they flung themselves down on a 
grassy bank. “ Ollit can’t pass over that. He 
was bad before, but now it’s going to be war to 
the knife.” 

“ I suppose it will,” said Benson shortly. “ I 


91 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 

could not keep silent and let him speak in that 
way.” 

“ You couldn’t,” said the Shah, nodding. “ I 
couldn’t either. Well, I dare say there are better 
places than Bonner’s, and there can’t be many 
worse — and whichever way he tries to strike, 
he’ll find me solid behind you.” 


92 


CHAPTER VII 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTURE 

T he sun was sinking beneath the wide 
Cheshire plain, and thin mist dimmed the 
meadows when Benson drew the skiff to the land- 
ing and then stood still looking about him. The 
shadows had deepened beneath the coppice, and 
the turrets of the stately hall lost their sharpness 
of tracery, while the smell of damp earth and 
leaves filled the dusky hollow. The river, how- 
ever, still shone faintly, and a distant thud of 
oars broke through the stillness. 

“ What a day it has been ! ” he said, with a 
sigh. “ The happiest day I have had since I 
came to Liverpool, and one feels tempted to 
wonder if we will ever spend another like it 
again. Well, this is the last of it. We are due 
at Bonner and Mason’s early to-morrow.” 

Ormond swept his glance wistfully across the 
long, dim meadows. “ I would like to stay here 
always and forget there were any towns in the 
world,” said he. “ Still, there is an end to most 
things if one can wait for it, and you and I will 
find a better place than Bonner’s some day.” 

93 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

“Get in/’ said Benson. “We are very late 
already.” 

The boat shot out from the landing, and 
neither said anything further for a mile at least. 
That day in the green country had been a time 
of pure delight to them, but it was over, and 
they were on their way back to resume their 
ill-paid drudgery in the grimy city. It seemed 
to Benson an overfed but still hungry monster 
which drew in and crushed the youth and cour- 
age out of legions of his needy countrymen. He 
did not realize then that all prosperity is paid 
for by steadfast labor, and that the price of the 
great city’s commerce was the grim bareness and 
constant effort of thousands of toiler’s lives. 

Meantime it was growing dark, and the Shah 
blundering with the sculls. All the boats had 
gone, and they slid on down a lonely river, while 
the stars peeped out above the woods, which 
grew blurred and dim, until a thud of paddles 
rose behind them as the skiff shot through the 
gloom of overhanging branches round a bend. 

“ That must be the last steamer,” said Benson. 
“ Put a little more weight into the stroke, Persia. 
We have no time to lose.” 

“ That’s all right,” said Ormond. “ I know 
what I ought to do, but my fingers are blistery, 
and the sculls won’t go where I want them to. 
I nearly lost that one now.” 

Benson stopped pulling, and the boat swerved 
94 



BENSON GASPED AS HE SAW THE FROTH BENEATH THE SHARP BOW 

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A NIGHT OF ADVENTURE 


sharply with one of his companion’s oars buried 
beneath it. 

“ The beastly thing won’t come up,” said the 
latter. ‘‘ Here’s the steamer ! ” 

“ Be quick ! ” said Benson. She’s cutting 
close round the corner, and I fancy we’re on the 
wrong side of the river.” 

Ormond tugged at his oar, and as he extricated 
it the top of a funnel rose above the alders. 
Next moment a low strip of hull with white foam 
washing away from the thudding paddles swept 
down upon them. 

“ Pull your hardest, Persia,” shouted Benson. 
“ Steamer ahoy ! Pull your helm over before 
you run us down ! ” 

He bent his back as he shouted, and the skiff 
shot forward, but it was almost dark in the gloom 
of the alders, and the boat perhaps not readily 
seen. The steamer was also packed with excur- 
sionists who may have prevented her helmsman 
noticing anything close before him. She came 
on straight for the boat, and while Ormond 
splashed furiously, Benson gasped as he saw the 
froth beneath the sharp bow close behind him. 
Another stroke or two would carry them out of 
danger, but it appeared doubtful if he could 
make those strokes in time. Once more he 
brought the pommels of the sculls back, and 
had just dipped them again when the boat 
lurched wildly and a low black hull crowded 
95 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


with indistinct humanity rushed past. In an- 
other second or two it had vanished beyond the 
outer curve of the bend, and Benson gasped with 
relief. 

Then — ^and neither of them ever knew quite 
how it happened, though most likely Ormond 
missed a stroke when the skiff lurched on the 
steamer’s wash — the craft turned over. Benson 
went out backwards into very cold water, and 
when he rose spluttering saw the alders a few 
yards away, and Ormond grab at the boat in a 
way which suggested that he did not know how 
to swim. It was fortunate for him that Benson, 
who could swim well, had been upset once or 
twice before, and remembered several important 
things. He knew that while it is easy to right a 
light boat, it is very difficult for a novice to climb 
on board, because the boat rolls over, and though 
anybody could keep afloat by clinging to the 
stern. Angers soon grow numbed, while a person 
who cannot swim usually overturns the craft 
again by trying to climb upon her instead of 
merely keeping his head above water. Benson, 
however, did not think all this out, or Ormond 
would have drowned. He knew it already, and 
flung his left arm forward as he turned on his 
side. He reached his comrade with the next 
stroke, and, grabbing him by the collar, glanced 
at the bushes. They were sliding past him, for 


96 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTUEE 


the current ran fast round the corner, and there 
was a narrow strip of deep water between. 

“ You are all right, Persia. Don’t get hold of 
me, and keep still,” he gasped. “ We’ll be ashore 
yonder directly.” 

He did not know how long it took them to 
cover that short distance, but as he struggled 
through the icy water dragging a heavy weight, 
the time appeared interminable, and the bushes 
very little nearer at every desperate stroke. For- 
tunately, Ormond did not grapple with him, and 
at last, choking and gasping, he flung an arm 
out and clutched at a drooping branch. It broke 
beneath his grasp, and the pair went down to- 
gether, while for a moment of horror Benson 
felt his comrade’s arms about him, and knew 
when they rose again there would be no hope for 
either if he missed this time. The bank was 
steep and hollow, but the current swept them a 
little nearer it, and it was with a vague sense of 
triumph he felt his fingers strike a solid stem. 
Next moment his shoulders were clear of the 
water, and driving one foot into the crumbling 
bank, he shook his comrade. 

“ Get hold of the trees, Persia, and lift your- 
self ! ” he gasped breathlessly. 

Ormond floundered, Benson making a strenu- 
ous effort thrust him forward, and presently the 
pair struggled, dripping and half-dazed, out of 


97 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


the alders. Ormond choked and spluttered be- 
fore he found his voice. 

“ I thought I was done for, and would have 
been but for you,” said he. “ Beastly cold, isn’t 
it? Where are you going to? ” 

“ For the boat,” said Benson, trotting along 
the bank. 

“ Don’t be an idiot ! ” gasped the Shah, who 
staggered after him, and fell headlong into a 
prickly bush. 

Benson saw the skiff beneath him. She was 
only three or four yards away, but the river ran 
deep along that bank, and the water was very 
cold. Still, he recollected that she was not his 
own. 

“Let the wretched boat go,” Ormond’s voice 
reached him, and, perhaps, because he felt 
tempted to do so, Benson went headforemost 
into the water. The plunge brought him within 
reach of the boat, and he managed to find the 
rope in her bow. A few strokes set him ashore, 
and when he crawled out Ormond appeared 
above him. 

“ Catch this, Persia, and drag her up,” he 
gasped. 

The bank was high and steep, and it was no 
light task to pull the skiff clear of the water, 
but the exertion restored a little warmth and 
circulation, and when they had accomplished it 
Benson looked about him. There was a wood on 
98 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTUEE 


one side, then a long stretch of dusky meadows, 
but no light anywhere or sign of anything living 
but the rustle a horse made behind a tall hedge. 

“Feeling all right now?” he said. 

“ I’m cold,” said Ormond. “ I’d feel happier 
if I knew how we were to get to Chester without 
any oars. There’s another thing. I might have 
drowned you, and want to say something, but 
the right words don’t seem to come.” 

Benson laughed, though he was shivering 
again. 

“ We’re going to Chester on our feet, and 
it’s probably five miles away,” said he. “ You 
wouldn’t like to try to swim there, and didn’t 
expect me to leave you in the river? ” 

“ Of course not,” said Ormond slowly. “ I 
know that is one of the things you would never 
do. Still, you can’t make me think there was 
anything to laugh about ten minutes ago ! ” 

“ Very well,” said Benson. “ If you’re too 
proud to accept a small favor, you can easily go 
back into the river again.” 

The Shah stared at him, and then broke into a 
hoarse laugh, while Benson, seizing his shoulder, 
started at a trot across the meadow. They were 
warm when they reached the last hedge, in which 
the Shah stuck fast, to the detriment of his 
clothing, while Benson, who pulled him through 
it, raised a hand to his wet head when they 
felt a hard road beneath them. 

99 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“Well, I am an idiot. I never noticed I’d 
left my hat in the water,” said he. “ Between 
one thing and another, this is going to prove an 
expensive outing.” 

“ It’s a pity,” said the Shah. “ One cap won’t 
be very useful between us.” 

He chuckled so heartily at his own joke that 
Benson found his amusement infectious. They 
had covered a mile at a steady run when he 
pulled up panting on the top of a hill with the 
lights of Chester twinkling in the distance be- 
fore him. 

“ I’ve a stitch in my side,” gasped the Shah, 
running his fingers over the milestone he sat 
upon. “ It’s four miles to Chester — I wish I 
were there.” 

“ So do I,” said Benson drily. “ Especially 
as we may have to walk home unless we get there 
soon. It must be nineteen miles to Birkenhead 
ferry.” 

The Shah got up, but though they lost no time, 
it was late when they came panting into the city, 
and Ormond groaned as he strove to quicken his 
stride. “ The railway,” he gasped, “ is right 
across the town.” 

“We have something to do first. Isn’t this 
the way to the river?” said Benson; and the 
Shah, who halted, sat down on a window-ledge, 
staring at him. 

“ I was forgetting the beastly boat,” said he. 

100 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTUEE 


“ I suppose we ought to tell the fellow, if you 
think it necessary.” 

“ Of course I think it necessary,” said Benson ; 
but the Shah appeared doubtful. 

“ Even if we miss that last train? It’s fifteen 
miles to Birkenhead,” said he. 

“ If we walk every foot of the way,” said Ben- 
son ; and the Shah shook his head as he hastened 
after him. 

“ Let me talk to the fellow. I can do it better 
than you can,” he said presently. 

They found an angry man waiting for them in 
the boat shed, and he glanced significantly at a 
comrade as he noticed their damp attire. 

“ Where’s my boat? ” he said. 

“We have come to tell you, though we should 
have gone to the police office,” said the Shah. 
“ They would take your license away if they 
knew you tried to drown people by letting them 
boats which turn over if you look at them.” 

“ Is that it? ” said the man, with a grin. “ I 
told you she was tender, but you said you were 
used to rowing. What have you done with 
her? ” 

The other man chuckled, and the Shah avoided 
Benson’s gaze. 

“ The wretched thing’s in a field at the bend 
near Eccleston,” he said indifferently. “ Any- 
body would pull her down for a shilling to- 
morrow.” 


101 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

“ Stop a bit,” said the owner. “ Do you think 
I can get new oars, and floorings, and rudder all 
for a shilling, too? ” 

The Shah glanced at Benson, who regarded 
him sternly. 

“ Well, the oars have gone, but we lost nothing 
else,” said he. 

“ Then,” said the man, “ it will cost you thirty 
shillings.” 

“ Will it? ” said the Shah, with scorn. “ What 
do you take us for? ” 

“ You mightn’t be pleased if I told you,” said 
the boat owner. “ You don’t consider yourself a 
gentleman coming here to cheat a poor man? ” 

Benson was about to speak, but the Shah 
stopped him. “ I’m a clerk, and it’s no use talk- 
ing about thirty shillings to me,” said he. “ Go 
to law about it if you like, and everybody will 
know that your boats are only fit for drowning 
people, but a sensible man would take my offer. 
What are those sculls worth, Benson? ” 

“ They were common pine,” said Benson. 
“Eight shillings a pair. If he made them on 
that bench yonder they didn’t cost him four 
shillings.” 

“ Eight shillings down, and eight next Satur- 
day,” said the Shah. “ You can either take that 
or our address.” 

The other man nodded. “ I’d take the cash 
if I were you, Tom,” said he. 

102 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTURE 


The waterman consented, and Ormond sighed 
as they turned away. “ Sixpence left between 
us. That’s what comes of being honest,” he said 
ruefully. “ If I could have slipped over those 
beastly sculls he’d have taken a shilling.” 

“ I’m glad you didn’t,” said Benson, with a 
trace of a smile. 

“ So am I a little,” said the Shah reflectively. 
“ It’s nice to feel one has done the correct thing, 
but it’s expensive. The pity is one can’t do it 
and keep the cash as well.” 

They ran all the w'ay to the station, and heard 
that the train for Birkenhead was leaving as 
they entered it. Scrambling over a bridge, they 
reached it as the carriages were moving along the 
platform crowded with excursionists, but Or- 
mond sprang upon the footboard of one not quite 
full. 

“ There’s room here,” said he. 

The engine was clear of the platform, and a 
railway servant ran shouting towards them, but 
Benson swung himself onto the footboard while 
Ormond opened the door. A face looked down 
upon them, and Benson recognized Ollit’s mali- 
cious grin. 

“ There’s no room for you,” he said, and the 
door banged to, almost shaking the Shah off be- 
neath the wheels. He staggered across the plat- 
form, and when Benson joined him the railway 
man stood panting close by. 

103 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ You might have been killed,” said he. “ I 
ought to take your names and ask the Company 
to prosecute you.” 

“ They wouldn’t get anything out of us if they 
did,” said the Shah. “ You can have my name 
if you want it, but that’s about all I have to 
give. When’s the next train to Birkenhead? ” 

“ There isn’t one a day ticket would take you 
by,” said the man, retiring sulkily when he saw 
the futility of attempting to extort a shilling 
from the Shah, and the two stood watching the 
train disconsolately until it vanished under a 
bridge. 

“ Ollit scored that time,” said the Shah, 
“ Well, we can’t stay here to freeze in our wet 
clothes, and hotels aren’t in our line. We have 
got to walk it, and it’s fifteen miles.” 

They strode out of the station and left the 
town behind. Damp as they were, the exercise 
was good for them, and the first four miles passed 
pleasantly. There were no houses along the 
broad high-road, which ran straight and white 
past coppice and misty meadow, while the silence 
of the quiet country appealed to them, and the 
cool night air was fragrant with the scents of 
spring. 

There was no moon, and the black woodlands 
led the eye away into a dim region of shadow 
where, save for the crying of plover, all was sol- 
emn and still. 


104 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTUKE 


This is fine,” said the Shah. “ I’ve never 
walked down a country road in the dark before. 
It makes one quiet and want to think. Doesn’t 
it strike you, Benson, that one could understand 
puzzling things better out here than he ever could 
in the city? ” 

“ It has struck more clever people than I am,” 
said Benson. “ Still, it is a pity, we have eleven 
miles yet to go.” 

“ It is,” said the Shah, who became practical 
again. “ I wish I had put on a thicker sock. 
This one must have melted, and my heel comes 
through. That’s the worst of sixpence-half- 
penny things, you know.” 

Benson laughed, and they tramped on for a 
while, until the Shah, who was lagging, stopped. 
“ There’s a gate across the road. Couldn’t we 
sit down a little? ” said he. 

“Are you tired?” said Benson; and Ormond 
did not answer directly. 

“ I thought it would be nice to look at the 
scenery, and this boot is cutting my heel,” 
|said he. 

They sat down, and the Shah, who took his 
boots off, appeared reluctant to get up again, 
while before two more miles had been covered he 
was limping painfully, and presently stopped 
once more. 

“ It’s the fault of the beast who made these 
boots,” said he. “ I can’t go any farther, but if 
105 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


it wasn’t so shivery it would be romantic to sleep 
all night out here in the country. It’s a pity 
we hadn’t a camp fire and a tent.” 

“ You might as well wish for a motor car when 
you are at it,” said Benson. “ It would be con- 
siderably more useful.” 

There was no gate in the neighborhood, and 
they lay among the wet grasses by the roadside 
for a considerable time, then rose shivering, and 
Benson’s joints were aching when they com- 
menced the march again. Both walked very 
slowly, and the Shah staggered as they limped 
into a little whitewashed village, lying very dark 
and still beneath a tall church spire. 

“We must be at Bonner’s sooner than usual 
to-morrow or I’d stay here, if I had to break a 
door in,” said the Shah. “ Six miles more ! I 
don’t know how I shall do them.” 

Benson, who was very weary, slipped his arm 
through his comrade’s. “We have got to man- 
age it. Lean on me,” said he. 

Both of them long remembered those terrible 
six miles. Sometimes they limped painfully, 
and sometimes they staggered when a stone 
struck their toes, while once they lay for an hour 
shivering under a hedge, and Benson had to drag 
the Shah to his feet again. Nobody who worked 
for Bonner and Mason had much leisure for 
exercise, and twenty-two miles is a long march 
after a day’s rowing. At last they toiled down 
106 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTUKE 


the bare length of road which runs straight as an 
arrow into Birkenhead, and it cost Benson an 
effort to keep the Shah on his feet at all as he saw 
it stretch on apparently for ever before him. 
Still he accomplished it, and one by one lights 
rose far off, grew into brightness and multiplied. 
Then villas appeared singly and gave place to 
streets, there was a smell of chemicals and smoke, 
and they dragged themselves through the silent 
town. At last the ferry buildings rose up be- 
fore them, and Ormond supported himself by 
the turnstile as he tendered the man behind it the 
one sixpence he had. 

“ I want another if you are both going. The 
penny boat don’t start until six,” said the col- 
lector. 

Ormond looked at Benson and positively 
groaned. 

“ It’s all we have got, and we’re so tired we 
can scarcely stand,” he said. 

The man looked at them compassionately. 
“ You can lie down in the stageman’s hut if you 
like,” said he. “ There’s a fire and an old rug 
inside it.” 

They were glad of the permission, and soon 
afterwards fell asleep in a corner of the hut with 
the rug about them, while the stageman had 
some difficulty in awakening them when the hoot 
of the ferry-boat’s whistle rose from the river. 
They r^ched their lodgings an hour later, and 
107 


A NIGHT OF ADVENTUEE 

shortly afterwards set out half-asleep for Bon- 
ner and Mason’s. 

Ollit met them going in, and taking no notice 
of Benson, smiled at Ormond unpleasantly. “ I 
didn’t expect we would be favored with your 
company to-day. I hope you had a pleasant 
walk, Persia,” said he. 


108 


CHAPTEE VIII 


A QUESTION OP PRINCIPLE 

FEW weeks had passed since the Easter holi- 



Ai. days when Benson, being told that one of 
the partners wished to see him, entered the pri- 
vate office with misgivings. Mr. Bonner fixed 
his eyes upon him steadily, and Benson, knowing 
how quick he was to dismiss anybody who dis- 
pleased him, wondered uneasily whether Ollit 
had laid the blame of sending certain goods to the 
wrong place on him. 

“We have been watching you since you came 
here,” said Bonner, while Benson could hardly 
believe his ears as he proceeded. “ I may say 
that we are satisfied with your attention to busi- 
ness, and it has occurred to me that you would be 
useful and have an opportunity of learning more 
about the trade outside. So as Davies the ware- 
houseman wants assistance, I thought of sending 
you to help him among the docks and stations. 
How does that strike you? ” 

“ I should like it very well, sir,” said Benson, 
with a fiush of pleasure. 

“ Then you can begin to-morrow,” said Bon- 
ner. “ You will have to be down at the docks 


109 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


by seven each morning, and it will probably be 
that time in the evening before you get away. 
Are you afraid of getting up early? ” 

“ No, sir,” said Benson, who would have pre- 
ferred anything to writing in the office all day; 
and Bonner smiled. 

“ People are apt to believe you when you don’t 
say more than is necessary,” said he. “ You can 
tell the cashier to give you an extra five shillings 
every Saturday.” 

Benson went out of the private office exul- 
tantly. He was to work for a time, at least, in 
the open air, and so long as he stayed with Bon- 
ner and Mason he could hope for nothing better. 
He smiled when he heard Ollit say to his neigh- 
bor, “ It’s a crying injustice to the other juniors, 
but it’s a comfort to know they’ll find out he’s 
not fit for anything presently.” 

Benson commenced his new task next morn- 
ing, and found that he liked it better than he 
had expected. The rush of the traffic he worked 
among stirred energies and interests which of 
late had been lying dormant within him, and as 
he bustled about the great grain elevators hurl- 
ing up dusty wheat by the thousand bushels, he 
felt that he was playing a part in the feeding of 
the nation. Sometimes he would stand by the 
hatches of a cargo steamer loaded with ten thou- 
sand tons of fiour and grain, gazing at the men 
who toiled like giants in the steam of the rattling 
110 


A QUESTION OP PEINCIPLE 


winches while wire rope and clanking chain 
snatched up endless sacks of food from the in- 
terior of the leviathan. At other times he climbed 
iron stainv^ays into rooms where the wheat roared 
in golden cataracts from whirring rubber bands, 
hastened lines of ponderous horses and wagons 
towards ship and station, or crawled over moun- 
tains of piled-up bags under the dusty warehouse 
beams. 

It all interested him — the panting of locomo- 
tives, ceaseless grind of wheels, hoarse cries of 
brawny men who, stripped to the waist, filled up 
the grain bags like tireless automatons, and the 
rattle of the winches that swung four thousand 
tons of foodstuff daily from the tramp steamers’ 
holds. He began to understand that if England 
was great and powerful, it was this strenuous 
labor her greatness was based upon, and that the 
men who could control and direct such tremen- 
dous energies did more to hold her foremost than 
general or admiral. Mrs. Wilkie had, it seemed, 
spoken wise words. It was the men who bid on 
the markets, drove wagons and winches, or toiled 
in the noisy workshops who paid for the battle- 
ships and guns. 

So six months passed, and Benson, who was 
able to tell his uncle he required no further help, 
grew contented and cheerful. The Shah had 
also been promoted, and throughout the sum- 
mer they made journeys into the country on 
111 




THE YOUNG TEADEES 


Saturday afternoons, while both had grown recon- 
ciled to the thought of staying at Bonner and 
Mason’s for at least a time, when Benson, calling 
at the office one morning, heard Ollit talking to 
the warehouseman. 

“We have mixed up the sacks horribly, be- 
tween us,” he said. “ I’m a good many hundred 
short, and don’t know where to get them from. 
Bonner will rage like a mad bull if he sees any 
more bills for hiring, and it would be an uncom- 
monly lucky thing if you could find some.” 

Davies looked at the book shown him, and 
smiled significantly. “ I shouldn’t wonder if 
Bonner dismissed one of us if he got to know. I 
must try to find a few,” said he. 

Benson had learned that it was somewhat 
difficult to keep a correct account of the sacks the 
grain was stored in. Some belonged to country 
millers, some to Bonner and Mason, and some to 
railway companies or men who hired them, while 
it was Ollit’s duty to keep a record of where they 
went to, and to see that the customers duly re- 
turned them. Benson also knew that there were 
men who thought it no great harm to appropriate 
a few score of sacks hired by somebody else from 
the heaps of empty ones lying about the quays, 
and guessed that was Davies’ intention. This, 
however, would not be a case of a few score, but 
something approaching wholesale robbery. Davies 
was a shrewd, good-humored man, and had 
112 


A QUESTION OF PRINCIPLE 


treated Benson well, though the latter, who liked 
him, would not have guaranteed his honesty. 

As Benson was leaving the office he met Mr. 
Bonner, who stopped him. “ Is everything going 
on all right among the docks? ” he said. 

“ Yes, sir,’’ said Benson ; and his master nod- 
ded. 

“ We have a thousand tons of stuff in the big 
Canadian boat due next week,” said he. “ It 
is for people who have threatened to take their 
business from us if we keep them waiting, and 
every bushel must be carted into the railway as 
soon as it is landed.” 

Benson had reached the street when Ormond 
overtook him. “ Look out,” he said ; “ Ollit has 
been quiet a long time, and he has mixed up all 
his sack accounts, and will want a big lot of bags 
he can’t get, without telling Bonner, for the 
Canadian steamer.” 

“ That’s his own affair,” said Benson. “ He 
would have plenty if he had kept his books 
properly.” 

“ Of course,” said the Shah. “ Still, he might 
make it appear that you or Davies had lost them. 
Ollit’s clever at some things as well as spite- 
ful.” 

A day or two later Benson stood one morning 
looking down through the hatchway into a 
steamer’s hold. It was almost dark in the great 
cavernous hollow, and the few lights that hung 
113 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


beneath the deck beams showed half-naked men 
floundering knee-deep in yellow grain as they 
dragged a barricade of bags aside. It had been 
built up to prevent the cargo shifting when the 
steamer rolled. A rubber band with buckets on 
it ran down into the hold, and a jet of steam from 
the barge which bore the engine that worked it 
roared above the vessel. 

“ We’ll get at your stuff in flve minutes,” 
shouted the foreman; and Benson, noticing two 
men struggling to drag a bag from under a heavy 
weight, dropped down into the grain. “ I will 
lift this corner,” he said. “We can make a hole 
for the elevator here.” 

They tugged and panted for several minutes. 
Then a bag collapsed, and while the grain poured 
out the bags above rolled clear. Somebody 
whistled, the machine commenced to hum, and a 
line of buckets fllled with wheat swept upwards 
through a cloud of dust, while Benson was 
sprinkled white from head to foot when he 
reached the deck. It was his duty to see a large 
quantity of the grain Mr. Bonner had spoken of 
loaded into the railway trucks that day, and he 
had determined to accomplish it, though he knew 
that the slightest loss of time would render it 
impossible. When he went down the gangway a 
pile of wheat was rising on the quay, and Davies 
met him. 

“ They’ll be running on our stuff all morning. 

114 


A QUESTION OF PEINCIPLE 

Send down all the carts and men you can, 
and we’ll get most of it off by afternoon,” he 
said. 

« IVe got the men and carts,” said Davies, 
“but where all the sacks are to come from is 
more than I know. Ollit could only send two 
lots of empties, and give me this hiring order.” 

“We want twice as many,” said Benson; and 
Davies nodded. 

“ Take the order, and get the bags it calls for. 
They’ll keep us going in the meantime while I 
see what can be done,” said he. 

Benson hailed a teamster, and presently ran 
into the office of a warehouse where sacks were 
kept. The storekeeper was, however, apparently 
very busy. 

“Help yourself. There are plenty of sacks, 
and I can’t attend to you,” said he. 

A cart had been sent off piled up with sacks in 
bundles when Benson returned to the office, but 
the storekeeper shouted to him from the top of a 
ladder, “ Have you got them all? ” 

“ I have not,” said Benson. “ I’ll send for the 
rest. Don’t you want your order or these signed 
for? ” 

“ Give it me when you’re finished,” shouted the 
other. “ I’ll have to trust you because I can’t 
come down now.” 

Benson saw the sacks filled, and returned for 
more later without finding the storekeeper. It 
115 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


was in the afternoon, and when the men were fill- 
ing the last of the bags, Davies came up to him, 
looking uneasy. 

“ I’ve picked very few bags,” he said. “ We’ll 
have the men and teams standing idle in another 
few minutes, which will mean a heavy loss in 
wages and stop us finishing the order to-day.” 

“ It’s a horrible pity, but it can’t be helped,” 
said Benson. 

“ It must be helped,” said Davies. “ I daren’t 
go back and tell Bonner we have left all this stuff 
on the quay. The millers won’t give him another 
order if he disappoints them. The sack ware- 
houseman made you sign for the full quantity? ” 

“ He was too busy to look at the order or see 
how many I took,” said Benson, without think- 
ing. 

Davies’ face brightened. “ Then give it me at 
once,” said he. 

“ Why do you want it? ” asked Benson, with 
sudden suspicions ; and Davies laughed at him. 

“ Can’t you understand that this will save us? ” 
said he. 

“ I can’t see that it makes any difference what- 
ever,” said Benson drily. 

“ Then you must be blind,” said Davies. “ That 
fellow has no receipt, and doesn’t know what you 
got. I’ll send round for more bags with the same 
order, and tell him it’s the same lot.” 

“ We can’t do that,” said Benson, taking an 
116 


A QUESTION OP PRINCIPLE 

indelible pencil from his pocket. “ It’s rob- 
bery.” 

“ That’s rubbish,” said Davies. ‘‘ You don’t 
suppose I mean to steal them? Only let us finish 
this order and we’ll arrange the thing without 
robbing anybody. There aren’t many men who 
won’t pick up grain sacks when they’re short, but 
I’ll have plenty next week and will send them 
back to him.” 

Benson stood silent a moment. He had made 
up his mind to send off all the grain, and knew 
that while Mr. Bonner would appreciate his suc- 
cess, it was quite possible that failure might 
imply his dismissal. He had also the warehouse- 
man’s promise that the bags would be replaced, 
and Benson guessed that once he got them the 
storekeeper would make no complaint. Still, he 
had no great confidence in Davies, and the other 
man had trusted him. 

“Take my word, it will be all right; but 
Bonner wdll dismiss us both if we don’t get 
those sacks,” said Davies. 

The warehouseman’s eyes were eager, and he 
sprang forward, when Benson, whose face was 
fiushed, took the order out of his pocket. “ Give 
it to me,” he almost shouted. 

Benson, guessing his intention, stepped back, 
and before Davies could snatch it from him, 
scrawled “ Received ” and his name across the 
paper. 


117 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ You can have it now,” said he. 

Davies stared at him in dismay, and then 
laughed unpleasantly. 

“ There is no use saying anything, but I 
wouldn’t like to be in your place when Bonner 
gets to know,” said he. 

A few more sacks were filled, and then both 
men and teams were idle, while Benson, who had 
minor duties to attend to, went about them until 
it was time for him to return to the office in the 
evening. He guessed what he might expect when 
he reached it, and was slowly ascending the stair- 
way when the warehouseman stopped him. 

“Although you nearly got me sent away, I 
don’t bear you any malice,” said the latter. “ I 
might have pulled you out of the scrape, too, only 
that Ollit, whom I told about the sacks, saw Bon- 
ner. I don’t know what he said to him, but 
Bonner’s furious, and stayed late on purpose to 
see you.” 

Benson went on in silence, and, halting a 
second to gather his courage, knocked at the pri- 
vate office door. When he went in Mr. Bonner 
scowled at him savagely. 

“ I’m surprised that you have the audacity to 
come back here after the disgraceful way you 
disregarded my instructions,” he said grimly. 
“We sent you outside to give you a better oppor- 
tunity of learning the business, and this is how 
you repay us. I suppose you know we shall lose 
118 


A QUESTION OF PEINCIPLE 


some of our best orders through your neglect and 
stupidity. Don’t stand staring at me! Have 
you nothing to say? ” 

“ I’m afraid I can only say I did all I 
could to finish the order, sir,” said Benson 
quietly. 

“All you could! You did less than nothing, 
because if you had not been there the warehouse- 
man would have managed it ! ” shouted Bonner. 
“ There is no use endeavoring to deceive me. Did 
you do what your superior told you? ” 

“ No, sir,” said Benson simply. 

“ Of course you didn’t ! ” shouted Bonner. “ It 
confirms what Ollit told me about your gen- 
eral insubordination. Well, then, why didn’t 
you? ” 

“ I did not think it was honest, sir,” said Ben- 
son ; and Bonner glared at him. 

“ You did not think it was honest ! I have 
seldom heard anything to equal that,” said he. 
“ Have you the cool insolence to accuse a com- 
pany like ours of trickery? And what right has 
a boy who knows nothing to think at all? ” 

Benson looked steadily at the angry man. 
“ You asked me why I would not do what Davies 
told me, sir,” said he. “ It is not my place to 
form opinions about other people, but if the ware- 
houseman asked me to do the same thing to- 
morrow I would refuse again.” 

“ Then that decides the question,” said Bon- 
119 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


ner grimly. “ One can only advise you to look 
for some other employer you may approve of. 
Ollit has complained about you, but I did not 
believe him until to-day. We shall not want you 
after next Saturday.” 

‘‘ Very well, sir,” said Benson, and walked 
slowly with a white face out of the private office, 
Ollit watched him with an evil smile of satis- 
faction, but Ormond, who was waiting, followed 
him down the stairway. Benson stopped, and 
his lips quivered a little. 

“ You will have to get a new comrade after 
next Saturday, Persia,” said he. 

“ I will not,” said Ormond, who was red in the 
face with suppressed emotion. “ That old savage 
Bonner has dismissed you? Well, there are more 
places than this wretched office, and we’ll go off 
somewhere together. I’ll give the beast notice 
this evening.” 

“ You must not,” said Benson a trifle huskily. 
‘‘ You have done a great deal for me already, 
and I cannot let you. It is not always easy to 
make a living abroad, you see, and you know you 
will get food and shelter here.” 

“ Don’t you want me? ” said Ormond sulkily; 
and Benson tried to smile. 

“ There is nobody I would sooner have, Persia, 
but I cannot allow you to suffer for my misfor- 
tunes,” said he. 

“ Just one question,” said the Shah. “ Would 
120 


A QUESTION OF PRINCIPLE 


you still have had me for a partner if I had 
been sent away? ” 

Of course I would,” said Benson rashly, and 
briefly relating what had happened, failed to 
notice the Shah’s curious smile. “ Do you think 
Bonner knew exactly what Davies wanted me to 
do?” 

“ I think he could guess, though Davies would 
not tell him everything,” said Ormond drily. 
“ When folks don’t want to hear unpleasant 
things they don’t ask awkward questions. Any 
way, I’m glad you would have let me come with 
you.” 

While Benson turned homewards Ormond 
went up the office steps, chuckling softly to him- 
self. “He would take me if I was sent away. 
That should be easily arranged,” said he. 

He walked straight up to Ollit’s desk and 
banged his flst down upon it. “ Ollit,” he said 
loudly, “ you are a coward and a beast.” 

Ollit lifted a heavy ruler and pushed him back. 
“ Oh, get away. I don’t quarrel with juniors, 
and you can’t be right in the head,” said he. 

Ormond wrested the ruler from him and swept 
all the papers off his desk. Next, he smashed a 
pen-rack and knocked the bottom out of the 
paper-basket. 

“ A slanderer and a coward ! ” he continued in 
a high-pitched voice. “ Get up and own it, as 
Benson made you do.” 

121 


THE YOUNG TRADEKS 


There was a little hoarse laughter and a mur- 
mur of amazement, while Ollit sat still with a 
livid face, staring at the junior clerk who brand- 
ished the ruler in front of him. 

“ Listen, every one,” continued the latter, 
smashing in the top of Ollit’s hat, which hung on 
a neighboring partition. “ This fellow has been 
losing hundreds of Bonner’s sacks, and blamed 
my friend, the one decent fellow in the whole 
musty office, for it. He is a liar, and a coward, 
too. Here am I, a junior, telling him so, and he 
daren’t stop me.” 

“ What is all this disgraceful commotion? ” 
said Watkins, coming in from the private office; 
and as Ormond prodded Ollit with the end of 
the ruler amidst a burst of smothered laughter, 
one of the clerks answered him. 

“ I don’t know precisely, but I think Persia 
has got hydrophobia, sir,” said he. 

Next moment the private office door was flung 
open, and there was sudden silence as Mr. Bon- 
ner strode through it. The clerks who had seen 
him appeared desperately busy, and only Or- 
mond stood away from his desk, still gripping 
the big ruler. 

“Whatever is going on?” asked Bonner, in 
his most impressive voice. “ What are you do- 
ing there, Ormond? and was it you I heard using 
outrageous language? Nobody is allowed to talk 
122 


A QUESTION OF PEINCIPLE 

in that fashion here unless it is one of the part- 
ners.” 

“ You see what he has done, sir,” interposed 
Ollit, pointing to his damaged hat and the 
state of chaos on his desk ; and Bonner, who had 
not yet recovered his temper, glared at the 
offender. 

“ It is the last time he will make such a dis- 
graceful scene,” he said shortly. “ Mr. Watkins, 
you will pay Ormond off on Saturday.” 

“ I’m dismissed for telling Ollit the truth, 
then? ” said Ormond; and Mr. Bonner nodded. 

“ You are dismissed, at any rate,” he said. 

The presence of the leading partner could not 
restrain the murmur of wonder at the Shah’s 
answer. “ Thank you, sir ! That’s what I 
wanted,” said he. “ You may have heard me 
telling Ollit what everybody knows he is, and 
since you wouldn’t let Benson clear himself, ask 
Ollit to show you his sack book if you think I’m 
exaggerating.” 

Mr. Bonner was not indisposed to find another 
victim to vent his wrath upon, and bade Ollit 
bring the book into his office. He came out pres- 
ently frowning more than ever, and said some- 
thing to Watkins before he went savagely 
downstairs. Ormond trotted most of the way 
home in a state of exultation, and when he got 
there found Benson laying the table for tea. 

123 


THE YOUNG TKADEES 


“ We are going out together, after all. I’m 
dismissed, too,” said he. 

Benson stared at him in confusion as between 
fits of laughter and outbreaks of indignation he 
related what had passed, and then grasped his 
shoulder. 

“ You make me ashamed, Persia,” he said, a 
trifle huskily. “ Whatever happens we’ll face it 
out together, and I couldn’t find a truer comrade 
anywhere.” 


124 


CHAPTER IX 


ON THE VERGE OP DESTITUTION 

N ext morning Benson overtook Miss Lee in 
a corridor of the great building, which al- 
ways reminded him of a rabbit warren. 

“ Have you considered what you are going to 
do? ” said she. 

“ I intend to this evening,” said Benson, color- 
ing a little. “Neither the Shah nor I can afford 
to be idle, but so far we have only decided that 
we have too little money to take us abroad.” 

“ That is a pity,” the girl said thoughtfully. 
“It is often very difficult to find a situation. 
Have you no friends who could help you? ” 

“ I have only an uncle, and don’t think he will 
be pleased with me,” said Benson, smiling. “ The 
Shah and I have also decided we must find a 
place where we can work together. He has been 
a good friend to me.” 

“ He has,” said Miss Lee, with a fiash in her 
eyes. “ I am sorry that I sometimes laughed at 
the Shah, though he is amusing occasionally. 
Both you and he might have stayed a long time 
at Bonner’s if you had not insisted on making 
an enemy of Ollit.” 


125 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


“ I didn’t insist,” said Benson awkwardly. “ I 
would sooner not have enemies if I could help 
it. But you have work waiting, and I am keep- 
ing you.” 

“ It can wait a little longer,” said Miss Lee 
imperiously, while a trace of color crept into her 
face. “ You insisted. What could you expect 
from him after what you did at the Iron 
Bridge? ” 

“ I hoped you would not have heard of it,” 
said Benson, with some confusion. “ Nobody 
had any right to tell you.” 

Miss Lee laughed a little. 

“ You need not be ashamed, and Ollit is not 
the only person who will not forget what you 
did,” said she. “ Now, though I am very sorry 
I helped to bring this upon you, I can’t help 
thinking it may turn out for the best some day. 
Bonner’s is no place for you.” 

“ Please don’t say any more,” said Benson, and 
Miss Lee looked at him steadily. 

“ Then you must not be too proud to let me 
help you,” said she. “ I went to a business col- 
lege before I came here, and learned how to apply 
for situations. You must write to everybody you 
know for testimonials, and get one from Bonner, 
who can’t refuse you. Bring them to me with 
the advertisements you wish to answer and I’ll 
make you copies and draft a letter. Everything 
depends on the letter, because the people who 
126 


ON THE VEEGE OF DESTITUTION 


want assistants get scores of offers, and pick out 
the one or two which strike them.” 

Benson was glad of this promise, for he had 
learned that the things which would prove most 
useful now were those he had not been taught at 
school, and knew that hundreds of applicants 
struggled for every vacant situation. When he 
came home that evening he found Ormond wait- 
ing for him in a state of excitement. 

“ Here is the very thing,” said he. “ ‘ Wanted, 
two young men for the West African trade. 
Suitable opportunity for enterprising youths of 
good character and constitution, especially if of 
adventurous disposition.’ ” 

Anybody who knew the fever-haunted coast 
of Western Africa would have distrusted that 
advertisement, but the prospect of an adventur- 
ous life in the little known continent set Benson’s 
eyes glistening, while the Shah continued enthu- 
siastically : 

“ I’d go out for nothing. Just think of it, 
Hilford ! Can’t you fancy yourself killing 
elephants, and setting slaves free, or lying in a 
hammock eating big pineapples, while a nigger 
fans you? Get the pens out and answer it. I 
don’t want any tea.” 

“We haven’t got the situation yet,” said Ben- 
son, though he was excited, too. “And I cer- 
tainly want my tea. I don’t think they would 
pay us for lying in hammocks and eating pine- 
127 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


apples, even if there are any. Still, we’ll write 
answers, and show them to Miss Lee. She seemed 
pleased with you, Persia.” 

The Shah blushed. 

“ She said a man ought to he a hero — ^but I’ve 
never had a chance yet,” he said, while the color 
spread further across his face. “ How can one 
be a hero when he sits at an office desk all day ! 
But can’t you commence your tea? and for pity’s 
sake don’t be greedy ! ” 

They spent all the evening drawing up two 
applications, and Miss Lee, who altered the com- 
mencement and ending, cut out the middle next 
day. 

“ There is no use describing yourself as a Her- 
cules, Persia, when the man will see you if the 
letter pleases him,” said she. 

Soon after Mr. Bonner arrived they entered the 
private office, and he looked at them sharply. 

“ I suppose you have come to apologize, and 
see if we will take you back,” said he. 

“No, sir,” said Ormond. “We only want a 
testimonial.” 

Now it is possible that if he had answered 
differently, Mr. Bonner, who was a quick- 
tempered man, but had not too many trustworthy 
assistants, would have made terms with them. 
As it was, he smiled a little. 

“ Very well. What kind of place are you 
applying for? ” said he. 

128 


ON THE VERGE OP DESTITUTION 

Ormond solemnly laid the advertisement on 
the table, and the merchant, who looked at it, 
wrote for a few minutes on two sheets of paper. 

“ I think you are foolish, but that’s your own 
affair,” said he. “ I suppose you know most 
white men die in Western Africa? ” 

“ White men die in England, too, don’t they, 
sir? ” said the Shah innocently. 

“ They do,”’ said Mr. Bonner, with a curious 
smile, “but not quite so quickly as they do in 
Western Africa. However, if you are bent on 
going, I don’t wish to discourage you.” 

The application was duly posted, but there was 
no answer, while on the Saturday morning Ben- 
son received a letter from his uncle asking him 
to come to Manchester. He was doubtful about 
going, but remembering that Mr. Marchmont had 
shown him some kindness, went when the cashier 
had paid him his last wages, and, with a few brief 
farewells, he had turned his back forever on 
Bonner and Mason’s. 

Mr. Marchmont said little until dinner was 
over, when he motioned Benson to take a chair 
where he could see him. 

“ I was very much annoyed by a letter I re- 
ceived from your employer,” said he. “ I want 
to know exactly what you did to displease 
him.” 

Benson related what had happened, and Mr. 
Marchmont turned upon him angrily: 

129 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


“ Was it your business to decide whether your 
superior did right or wrong? ” said he. 

“ I don’t know,” said Benson quietly. “ It 
was, however, my business to decide whether I 
should help him in the trickery.” 

“ Don’t exaggerate,” said his uncle. “ He told 
you he would replace the sacks, and it should 
have satisfied you. Still, there is nothing to be 
gained by discussing that now, and I gather from 
what he writes that if you apologize to Mr. Bon- 
ner on Monday and promise to do what you are 
ordered he will probably take you back. Now 
don’t get any absurd notions into your head. It’s 
a junior’s duty to carry out instructions, and if 
there is anything wrong about them, the man 
who gives them is responsible. Go and see Mr. 
Bonner on Monday.” 

Benson sat silent a minute. There had been 
no answer to the letters he and the Shah had 
written during the past few days, while on con- 
sidering ways and means they found they had 
only a few pounds between them. 

“ I can’t go,” he said doggedly. “ It is no 
use telling Mr. Bonner I am sorry when I would 
do the same thing again, or making promises I 
don’t mean to keep.” 

“ Don’t be rash,” said his uncle. “ Apologize, 
and I’ll do what I can for you, but if you are 
going to criticise your employers in this fashion 
you must make your own way, and it’s tolerably 
130 


ON THE VERGE OF DESTITUTION 


hard for anybody without influence to And a 
situation.” 

“ I am afraid it is,” said Benson. “ Still, 
sooner or later Davies will wish me to cheat 
again, and I will not go back to Bonner’s.” 

His uncle walked up and down, and then 
stopped before him. 

“ You can go to Jericho,” said he. “ I have 
plenty of worries of my own, and since you have 
evidently your father’s pigheaded foolishness, I 
cannot waste any more time on you.” 

“ I am grateful for what you have done, sir, 
but I cannot listen while any one talks in that 
way about my father,” said Benson. “ Since I 
don’t want to offend you after your kindness, it 
would be better if I went back again to-night.” 

Mr. Marchmont stared at him blankly. 

“ I’m not surprised you raised Bonner’s temper 
after that, and won’t press you to stay,” said he ; 
and Benson went quietly out of the room. 

His uncle seized the bell-rope irresolutely, and 
dropped it again, then laughed a little when he 
heard the front door open. 

“ I suppose I ought not to have let him go, 
but he’ll come back considerably more reasonable 
when he has had some of the nonsense rubbed out 
of him,” said he. 

Mr. Marchmont was, however, disappointed in 
this, for Benson never came back to beg for help, 
and would have starved before he did so. There 
131 


THE YOUNG TKADERS 


was no doubt that he was headstrong and not 
very considerate, but he was doing to his own 
disadvantage what he thought was right, and it 
was in poor spirits he journeyed home. He felt 
there could now be no turning back. He had 
chosen his own path and must go on, though he 
knew a few idle weeks would bring him to desti- 
tution. 

“ Did anything come by the last post? ” he 
asked when he reached his lodgings; and the 
Shah answered dismally: 

“ Only a miserable bill ! ” 

Very anxious days followed, and it rained most 
of the time. 

They lived very frugally, and wrote applica- 
tions for situations steadily, offering to under- 
take all kinds of duties, but nobody answered 
them. 

“ I never knew half our abilities before,” said 
the Shah as he directed one letter. “ Yesterday 
I tried to convince somebody that we were espe- ♦ 
cially competent to take charge of a lunatic. To- 
day I’ve offered to retouch photographs, and sell 
patent medicines in a wholesale chemist’s shop. 

I didn’t tell them that all I knew about patent 
medicines I’d learned from taking pills. Here 
are some more openings — ‘ A steady couple with- 
out children wanted for country estate, woman to 
do washing.’ That one’s no good. Another 
thing in the country, to feed poultry and bees. 

132 


ON THE VERGE OF DESTITUTION 


What do bees get to eat, Hilford, and do they 
feed them?” 

Benson laughed a little. “ The last one looks 
more promising,” said he. “ ‘ Fine opening for 
enterprising men to sell sewing machines.’ ” 

Post after post brought them nothing, and they 
waited, seeing destitution draw nearer, while 
their money grew scarcer as several weeks slipped 
by, until one morning the Shah pounced on the 
single letter which lay upon the mat. He tore 
it open, and then broke into a dance of tri- 
umph. 

“ It’s gorgeous ! We’re going to Africa after 
all,” said he. 

Benson read the note while his heart beat a 
good deal faster than usual, though remember- 
ing a remark of Mr. Bonner’s he looked thought- 
ful. I should not wonder if we got the place, 
but I don’t quite see what they want us to call on 
the doctor for,” said he. 

“ Don’t worry,” said the Shah, with the confi- 
dence of ignorance. “ It is only some idiotic 
formality.” 

They visited the doctor, who asked a good many 
questions before he said, “ There is nothing wrong 
with either of you, and since you were brought 
up in India, Mr. Benson, you should be less 
likely to catch fever.” 

“ Then there really is fever in that country? ” 
said Benson; and the doctor nodded gravely. 

133 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 

“ There is, unfortunately, a good deal of it,” 
said he. 

He gave them a little good advice, which 
they placidly disregarded. “ It’s no use remem- 
bering all that rubbish. He felt he had to say 
something,” said the Shah. 

It was late in the afternoon when they were 
shown into an office with only two or three 
clerks in it, where a gentleman glanced at them 
keenly. Neither of them knew that because the 
reputation of the West African coast is rather 
well known he had received very few answers to 
his advertisement, and that most of those were 
from clearly unsuitable people. 

“ You are Messrs. Benson and Ormond? I 
have heard from the doctor that he can pass 
you,” he said. “ A change in our arrangements 
prevented us considering your application earlier. 
Sit down and tell me what you can do in the 
way of office work.” 

The Shah furnished such a list of his talents 
that even Benson was astonished, and the listener 
seemed amused. “ If you can do all that, it is 
difficult to see why your last employer let you 
go,” said the latter. “ Is your friend quite such 
a wonder, too? ” 

Ormond seldom saw a joke until afterwards, 
and answered with undisturbed gravity, “ It is 
only when he comes to count them up a fellow 
finds out how many things he is capable of, 
134 


ON THE VEEGE OF DESTITUTION 


but whatever I can do Mr. Benson can do it 
better.” 

The gentleman glanced at Benson, and both of 
them laughed. He seemed a good-humored per- 
son, and after a few more questions said, “Now 
comes the topic of salary. You would get free 
board and quarters in our factories, and go out 
on a three years’ contract — fifty, sixty, and 
eighty pounds annually. How would that suit 
you? ” 

Ormond’s eyes sparkled, for he did not know 
what he was pledging himself to. “ It would 
suit us splendidly,” he said. 

“ In that case,” said the African merchant, 
“you can sign the contract to-morrow, and go 
out in the Lualaha on Saturday.” 


It was a hazy morning when they stood on the 
saloon deck of a little black-funneled steamer 
dropping down the Mersey. Her deck forward 
was cumbered with big white surf-boats, and 
there were black faces among the seamen stowing 
the anchor on the forecastle head. A few white 
passengers with thin, haggard faces strode up 
and down, talking to friends and shivering be- 
neath their heavy coats, though the morning 
was not cold, and the Shah surveyed them with 
slightly contemptuous wonder. 

“ They don’t look very much like adventurers 
135 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


or explorers, and they’re positively seedy. They 
can’t be sea-sick already,” he said. 

There was a spiritless clamor of voices as, with 
paddles splashing, the tender moved away from 
the steamer. Hats were lifted, and friend called 
to friend across the widening strip of water which 
opened between them, knowing they would prob- 
ably never meet again. Then the whistle hurled 
out a deafening farewell, and with engines throb- 
bing faster the Lualaba steamed on seawards 
alone. 

Benson said nothing as he looked about him. 
Behind him two smoky cities with their miles of 
streets and wharves were fading into the haze. 
Ahead, beyond the bows, lay the unknown, and 
his blood stirred within him as he wondered what 
it held in store for him. He had felt the restless 
longing which has for centuries driven forth the 
English across the world, and now he, too, was 
going out to a land of romance and mystery. 
It was well, however, that he looked forward with 
courage, for though the grimy steamer has re- 
placed the towering three-decker and high-pooped 
caravel, there are still grim battles to be fought 
for the good of the nation with scorching heat 
and pestilence, Arctic cold and starvation, over- 
seas. It is also fortunate that though, instead of 
sacking cities, some build new railways through 
lonely ranges, and some starve beside the frozen 
trails, there are still Englishmen ready to play 
136 


ON THE VERGE OF DESTITUTION 


their part in as stubborn struggles as any the 
men who sailed with Nelson or followed Drake 
and Raleigh won. 

“Are you Mr. Benson?” said a steward, ap- 
proaching him. “ Then here’s a packet that was 
sent for yon.” 

Benson opened the package while Ormond 
looked over his shoulder and discovered a note. 
It read briefly, “ We hope you will accept these 
little presents and the good wishes of a few 
friends at Bonner’s,” and was signed by one or 
two names beneath that of Minnie Lee. 

Ormond’s eyes glistened as he unwrapped a 
big pistol, whose cheap unreliability was hidden 
by brilliant silvering, while Benson stood looking 
at a little metal case of tabloid medicines. The 
kindly thoughtfulness of those he had expected 
nothing from touched him. 

“ It was awfully good of them,” said the 
Shah, positively fondling the murderous weapon. 
“ Still, it’s curious they sent you medicines.” 

“ They showed very good sense if you’re going 
out to the West Coast,” said an African trader 
who overheard him. “ What are you going to do 
with that great pistol when you get there, 
sonny? ” 

“ Shoot elephants and crocodiles,” said the 
Shah complacently. “ There’s a boat and crew 
to take us hunting and fishing at our fac- 
tory.” 


137 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


The trader laughed curiously. “ So you mean 
to enjoy yourselves yonder? ” 

“ Of course we do,” said the Shah. “ You see, 

I have never been in the tropics, and to lie in a 
boat while the niggers row me up rivers and 
bring me iced things to drink will be a great 
change to me. I’ve been reading about it lately.” 

The trader appeared about to say something, 
but a comrade drew him away. 

“ Let them enjoy it while they can. They’ll 
find out the real thing soon enough,” he said 
compassionately. “ I’d like to make it a penal 
offense to send these ignorant lads out there to 
die.” 

Meantime the Lualaha’s engines were throb- • 
bing steadily as she steamed on past rolling light- 
ships and processions of painted buoys, until the 
two cities of the Mersey were only a dim smoke 
cloud on the horizon. Benson did not notice it, 
for he was staring forward as though he would 
look into the future over the bows, but it was 
well for him that little foresight is given to 
mortal eyes, and he could see only smears of 
drifting haze. 

It was a day or two later when a gentleman 
of soldierly appearance called on Mr. Marchmont 
in Manchester. 

“ My name is Ogilvie, and I am anxious to dis- 
cover where Hilford Benson is,” said he. “ I 


138 


ON THE VEKGE OF DESTITUTION 


was one of his father’s friends, and fancy I could 
obtain an official appointment for him.” 

“ It’s a pity you did not come earlier,” said 
Marchmont. “ My estimable nephew has quar- 
reled with his employers, and departed for some 
place unknown without thinking it worth while 
to leave his address with me.” 

‘‘ I am sorry,” said Captain Ogilvie. “ I 
should have inquired earlier, but was wounded 
in India and dispatched on some important work 
on my recovery. Then I entered the service of 
a West African colony and had to sail at a few 
days’ notice. I only returned on leave a week 
ago. You have no idea where he has gone? ” 

“ Not the slightest,” said Marchmont drily. 

It was unfortunate that the letter Hilford 
Benson actually wrote his uncle was found by 
Mrs. Smith in the area with the address washed 
into an illegible smear some weeks after he sup- 
posed he had posted it. So Captain Ogilvie’s 
inquiries were fruitless, and while he made them 
the Lualaha was rolling from rail to rail as, 
steaming into a southwest gale, she lurched over 
the great seas off hammered Finisterre. Benson 
lay wedged in one berth endeavoring to read 
while the stateroom floor sloped all ways beneath 
him, and the Shah, who was seasick, lay in the 
lower one groaning horribly. 


139 


CHAPTER X 


THE ROAD TO KOPELLI 

I T was a still afternoon and almost suffocat- 
ingly hot when Benson caught his first glimpse 
of the strange country to which he was going. 
The Lualaha’s engines were pounding slowly, and 
he held on by the rail as she rolled viciously 
shorewards before a long, steep swell. Ahead, 
and as far as his eyes could follow them, little 
clumps of trees rose apparently from the depths 
of the sea. Here and there the giant limbs of a 
cottonwood towered above them, but for the most 
part they were mere rounded dots of foliage set 
in dimly shining water. Beyond stretched an 
impenetrable curtain of rolling mist, and between 
the trees and the steamer ran a broad white line 
of surf. 

As the skipper slowly felt his way in over the 
shoals, the spray which hung above the surf 
grew thicker, until it was only when the steamer 
swung aloft with the sea frothing white about 
her that Benson could see the trees beyond her 
bows. Then the mist spread its filmy folds sea- 
wards, and roaring bar and forest disappeared. 
Glancing aloft, he saw the skipper, laying down 
his glasses, grasp the telegraph, and the pace 
140 


THE EOAD TO KOPELLI 


141 


grew slower still. Steam curled about the tall 
black funnel, and while the roar of the whistle 
broke through the muffled thunder of the surf, a 
few big drops of rain splashed heavily on the 
deck. 

“ Kopelli factory lies up that river,” said the 
purser, who stopped close by. “We have a few 
bales of cottons for another station, but there’s 
no sign of a surf -boat coming off, and if we don’t 
see one soon you’ll have to come on with us to 
Calabar.” 

He had hardly spoken when the rain rushed 
down, such rain as Benson had scarcely seen in 
India, where it rains very hard. Almost before 
he could gain shelter the decks were sluicing, 
while he could scarcely see the water a hundred 
yards away. Again a gong clanged, and now 
save for the roar of the surf, which grew louder, 
there was a curious silence when the engines 
stopped, until the whistle sent a deafening 
scream vibrating through the rain. 

“ This country,” said the Shah, drawing his 
head back into the deck-house when a rivulet ran 
down his neck, “ is evidently a fine one for ducks. 
Nobody seems very anxious to come out and meet 
us, and I don’t think I would be sorry to go 
on to Calabar. The Lualaha is a comfortable 
steamer, and it’s a good deal drier here.” 

Benson smiled, for he guessed his comrade’s 
thoughts, but just then a strip of something 
141 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


white appeared on the top of a sea and sank out 
of sight again. When it rose a second time Ben- 
son conld see it was a big white boat with a 
dozen naked negroes crouching along the gun- 
wale. One of them shouted, and then with the 
rain beating down upon their shining skins they 
raised a wild chorns and sent the boat flying 
towards the steamer. A line was flnng down to 
them, and while the Lualaha rolled one way the 
boat rolled another. Sometimes she was almost 
level with the steamer’s rail, and then ten feet 
below it, but a few bales of goods were somehow 
lowered into her. Benson’s baggage followed, 
and the mate came up to him. 

“We would only smash the ladder if we let it 
down, but we could drop you into the surf-boat 
with the winch chain if you like,” said he. 
“ Otherwise you must come on to Calabar, and 
wait an opportnnity of getting back again.” 

The Shah glanced dnbiously at the dripping 
boat, and then at Benson. “ I think we can 
manage it,” said the latter. “ I’ll go flrst if you 
will follow me.” 

Thrusting a foot into the hook, he clutched 
the chain, and was swung out over the rail at 
the end of a crane while the boat sank down 
beneath him. As he steadied a little there was 
a rattle of wheels, and sinking swiftly he dropped 
over his ankles in water into the craft below. The 
Shah, who followed, swnng backwards and for- 
142 


THE EOAD TO KOPELLI 


wards several times, now over the tumbling 
waters, now over the steamer’s deck, before he 
was landed safely. He fell upon a dripping 
negro, and sat down, rubbing his knee. 

“ Trading clerks,” he said, “ seem to he pretty 
cheap in this country. Why didn’t you come in 
a steamer for us. Sambo?” 

“Teamboat only lib for white cappy of&sah 
man,” said the sable athlete, who stood grinning 
in the stern. “ You lib for top of them doff bale, 
and not worry me. Them bar plenty bad to-day, 
and if the boat lib for turn over the shark he go 
chop you.” 

“ It’s nice and cheerful for a beginning,” said 
the Shah ruefully. 

The boat swung away from the steamer, and 
both Benson and Ormond felt very lonely when 
the Lualaba vanished into the rain. It had cost 
them no great effort to leave the smoky city on 
the Mersey, and they had been better treated on 
board the Lualaba than they had ever been in 
Liverpool. She flew the red ensign, and they 
had felt at home, but now she had left them in the 
dripping boat and thrashing rain to face the 
unknown. 

Meantime, a dozen nearly naked negroes with 
blue stripes down their foreheads and very woolly 
hair swung with the thudding paddles, while each 
long hill of water which rolled up behind the 
boat grew steeper and the roar of the bar louder. 
143 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


There are few harbors in Western Africa, and 
the lift of the Sonthem Ocean, swelling in great 
undulations with an impetus gathered on its 
journey from Brazil, breaks furiously upon its 
shoals. Benson wondered how so small a craft 
would ever cross the river bar. 

He was soon to discover, for when the dull 
roar had grown into almost deafening pulsations 
of sound the helmsman shouted, and the paddles 
flashed faster. A sea came up out of the rain 
astern, and the boat ran forward on its back 
with the speed of a steamer. She sank suddenly 
down, and a tumultuous rush of foam and spray 
swept shorewards before her. Then the paddling 
slackened a little, and Benson clasped his Angers 
tight as a great wall of water came hissing up 
behind. 

Its side was hollow and smeared with lines 
of white, its crest a fathom of boiling froth, and 
it would have rolled over any other craft than 
a surf-boat. Even the negroes watched it over 
their thudding paddles with staring eyes, and 
Benson wondered with a cold feeling under his 
belt whether the boat would rise in time or be 
buried fathoms deep. Next moment he was 
almost deafened and blinded. The craft seemed 
to be shooting upwards, while thick spray whirled 
about him and he could dimly see a bewildering 
rush of foam. Then amid a breathless shouting 
the paddles whirled, and the surf -boat reeled for- 
144 


THE EOAD TO KOPELLI 


ward at extraordinary speed. When the pace 
grew slower and she sank, the water washed 
deep inside her, and there was nothing visible 
but the back of the sea, which foamed majestic- 
ally shorewards before them, until glancing over 
his shoulder he saw another thundering along 
behind. 

When this one overtook them the boat stood 
up almost on end, and two negroes crouched in 
her bottom, heaving out the water which poured 
into her. The rest were paddling desperately. 
After that Benson held onto the cloth bale, too 
bewildered to notice anything clearly at all until 
at last, dripping and almost swamped, they swept 
out into smoother water. The roar of the bar 
rose behind them, and he gasped with relief as 
he looked at his companion, who clung to the 
after-thwart while the water ran down his face. 

“ It’s pretty good for our first day in Africa. 
I wonder what the rest will be,” said the Shah. 
“ How did you get the boat out. Sambo? ” 

“ We done come out by another creek, sah,” 
said the helmsman. 

“ Then why didn’t you go back that way? ” 
asked Ormond; and the negro grinned. 

“ This be the near way. Suppose boat turn 
over, all them boy savvy swim, and them shark 
he not go chop them. Shark, he like white man, 
sah.” 

The Shah glanced at Benson, who smiled drily. 

145 


THE YOUNG TKADEKS 


“As you guessed, it’s pretty evident that we 
don’t count for a great deal here,” said he. 

By and by the rain ceased suddenly, and Ben- 
son stood up as a strip of forest rose out of the 
thick, white stream. It was formed of the most 
curious trees he had ever seen. They grew right 
out of the water, though here and there a little 
foul mire clung about the arches of their roots. 
Under these were shadowy tunnels, out of which 
there drifted slime and scum, while the pale- 
tinted stems above them sent down feelers to take 
fresh root in the mire again. The foliage was 
dense and matted, and some of it curiously 
sprinkled as though a shower of hail had passed 
that way. These were the mangroves, which are 
slowly carrying the African coast farther out 
to sea, for as slimy root follows root the river 
packs its mud and wreckage in between, and the 
mangrove adds rotting branches and fallen leaves. 
So the mud grows firmer until a screw pine or 
cottonwood thrusts its roots into the quaggy 
ground, and growing, rots and dies, until in the 
course of centuries the sea becomes dry land. 

Nature does her work slowly and thoroughly, 
though it is evident that in making West Africa 
she intended it as a home for the black man, and 
the European who tries to live there does so at 
his peril. He has for warnings the nights when 
he cannot sleep, the choking smells, the sour mist 
which rises at sunset from the swamps, and the 
146 


THE ROAD TO KOPELLI 


enervating lieat of afternoon. From these spring 
fever, jaundice, cholera, and other evils, but be- 
cause that country is rich in rubber and oil, fac- 
tories rise beside its crawling creeks, and though 
white men die by dozens, the trade is carried on. 

It is also an unchangeable country, and almost 
as savage now as it was in the beginning. In 
the early days of history the Egyptians fought 
their way into it westwards from the Nile, Phoeni- 
cian and Roman southwards from the Atlas de- 
files, and teaching the wild tribes a little, died 
and were forgotten. Centuries later came the 
Arab, spreading the faith of Islam with fire and 
sword, and to-day the finest type of African is the 
soldierly Mohammedan. Then came the Portu- 
guese, French, Dutch, and English, buying slaves 
along the coast. They found it a land stricken 
by pestilence, and given over to intertribal war- 
fare and human sacrifice, and though white men 
have traded with its people for four centuries, a 
good deal of it is in much the same condition still. 

Benson, who knew a little of this, stared at 
the sliding forest, and noticed the hot, sour smell 
as they wound in and out among trees that had 
no soil beneath them. It was the same every- 
where — broad patches of slimy water walled in 
by ranks of whitey stems, and he grew tired of 
the monotony, not knowing that he would find 
little difference if he traveled east for days, 
though some parts of that vast quagmire were 
147 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


a little more deadly than others. The rain had 
just commenced again when, with motionless 
paddles, the surf-boat slid towards the landing 
of a little factory. 

It rose, a jumble of red iron roofs and dripping 
limewashed buildings, against the misty forest, 
and a little white-painted steamer was moored in 
front of it. A white man in a wide hat and 
cotton singlet came out on the veranda, and 
shouted to somebody, after which he hailed the 
surf-boat. 

“ If you are the new assistants for Kopelli the 
launch will take you up,” said he. “ As she 
has been waiting, you had better get on board at 
once. We thought the boat-boys had drowned 
you.” 

They climbed on board the steamer, and the 
skipper of the surf-boat held out his hand. 

“ What you go dash me, sah? ” said he. 

■“Dash you?” said Benson; and the Shah 
grinned. 

“ He means give him something. These fel- 
lows are a bit civilized, anyway,” said he. 

Benson, fumbling in his pockets, managed to 
find a florin, which was about the last he had, and 
the negro who took the piece of silver looked at 
it scornfully. 

“ Sorry I not done let them shark go chop you, 
sah,” said he. 

“ You’re an ungrateful beast,” said the Shah. 

148 


THE ROAD TO KOPELLI 


“Nobody seems greatly delighted to see us; do 
they, Ford? ” 

While they stood on the deck of the steamer a 
young white man crawled out of the cabin and 
sat down at the tiller. He wore a sand-colored 
uniform with silver buttons, and his face was 
white and hollow, while his eyes burned with 
fever, 

“ You have come at last. I promised Imrie to 
bring you up or I wouldn’t have waited,” said 
he. “ If you feel hungry, help yourselves to 
whatever there is below. My steward died of 
something on the way down, and I’m not well 
enough to worry about you.” 

“ Is it far to Kopelli, sir? ” asked Ormond, 
awed a little by the sight of the uniform ; and the 
officer answered shortly : 

“ A hundred miles or so, I can’t take you all 
the way, and afterwards you’ll go on by canoe.” 

He called to his engineer, the propeller 
whirred, and Ormond hazarded another question 
as the launch moved away. “ Does this steamer 
belong to the factory? ” 

“ She does not,” said the officer, smiling. “ She 
belongs to the Protectorate Government, A 
canoe is considered good enough for most of the 
factories.” 

Soaked as they were, the two stood on deck 
a time, staring up the muddy river which un- 
rolled itself before them, while the great but- 
149 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


tressed cottonwoods which now rose about it 
went by dimly seen through a haze of rain. The 
launch’s decks were sluicing, but the fever- 
stricken officer sat huddled at the tiller, appar- 
ently as oblivious of the deluge as he was of the 
strangers’ presence. 

“ This isn’t very cheerful, and I’m hungry as 
well as wet,” said the Shah at last. 

They went into the little cabin and found 
tinned meats, as well as some curious fruits and 
insects, upon the table. Ormond, who tried all 
round, made wry faces before he attacked a huge 
pineapple. “ This is considerably better, and I 
haven’t quite lost my appetite,” be said, with a 
sigh of satisfaction. “ It doesn’t strike one as 
a particularly pleasant country.” 

“ It does not,” said Benson wearily. “ Still, it 
is tolerably warm, which is one satisfaction when 
you are soaked through. It was my misfortunes 
brought you here.” 

The Shah solemnly laid down his pineapple. 
“ I’m not sorry I left Bonner’s, and we’ll get 
through somehow if we stand by one another,” 
said he. “ If these folks don’t wish to be friendly 
they can do the opposite, but whoever attempts 
to tread on one of us will have to tackle 
two.” 

Benson ate very little, but the Shah had almost 
emptied the table before he suspended opera- 
tions. 


150 


THE ROAD TO KOPELLI 


“ Even those things which taste like turpen- 
tine and tallow aren’t so bad when you get used 
to them,” said he. “ Now I’m going to sleep and 
forget I’m in a country where nobody seems to 
want me.” 

He flung himself down, and sank into slumber, 
with the water trickling from him, while Benson, 
who followed his example, awoke to find the 
lamp lighted and the young white man staggering 
into the cabin. He dropped into a seat heavily. 

“ I shall be able to land you by midnight if 
the nigger at the helm doesn’t ram a sunken log,” 
he said. “ It w’as hard work to keep awake at the 
tiller, and I couldn’t look after you.” 

“ You look ill,” said Benson. “ Couldn’t any 
of your crew have relieved you? ” 

“ They could not,” said the other. “ Most of 
them are sick, and as they have been working 
night and day, I had to let the poor beggars sleep. 
White men get used to being ill in this country, 
while as one of the bush headmen is making 
a little disturbance there is no rest for any- 
body.” 

It struck Benson that the young officer prob- 
ably needed sleep more than his crew. “What 
is the headman doing? ” said he. 

“ Tying slaves between bent-down trees, and 
then letting the trees go,” was the dry answer. 
“We found them drifting down his creek pretty 
well torn in two. Plundering his neighbors and 
151 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


firing on trade canoes. I’ve been running down 
dispatches asking the folks in Calabar whether 
we should go in and tell him he must stop.” 

“ With a lot of men and guns? ” asked the 
Shah, whose eyes were very wide open; and the 
officer laughed a little. 

“ Not in the first place. We should go un- 
armed,” said he. 

“ But didn’t one of the other chieftains fire on 
a similar embassy? ” asked Benson. 

“ He did,” said the officer, whose face dark- 
ened, “ and killed in cold blood one of the finest 
Englishmen who ever set his foot in this forsaken 
country. He stopped and faced the murderers 
with only a little cane, that the others might get 
away, though it’s a pity several of them did not. 
The orders are to keep the peace, you see.” 

“ You are in command of the black troops, 
sir? ” asked the Shah almost reverentially, and 
their host laughed. 

“ I am merely on the civil list, but what one is 
classed is of no great consequence in the delta. 
The Consul sends off the first man fit for duty, 
and feels thankful if he can find any. Now it’s 
my turn to ask questions. What has become of 
the pineapple? ” 

“ I ate it, sir,” said the Shah guiltily. 

“ You needn’t be bashful. There are plenty of 
them,” said the officer. “ But do you know that 
eating whole pineapples generally ends in a 
152 


THE KOAD TO KOPELLI 


journey in a gun-case with a top hat nailed on 
to the end of it? ” 

“ A gun-case? ” said Benson ; and the officer 
nodded. 

“A case trade guns are packed in. This, as 
you will discover, isn’t a health resort, and the 
traders seem to like a gun-case for a coffin. 
When it’s too short they knock the end out and 
nail an old silk hat over it. Now I’m going to 
sleep a little.” 

He lay down dripping, leaving the newcomers 
almost aghast. It would have been difficult to 
express their thoughts, but both felt a longing 
to be once more safe on board the Lualaba. The 
Lualaba, however, was far away, and they were 
steaming up one of the most unhealthful rivers 
in Western Africa into a region which was ap- 
parently rife with bloodshed and pestilence. 

The rain had ceased, and the night was hot and 
steamy when they went out and sat huddled close 
together in the cockpit. The forest rose above 
them blackly, half veiled in fleecy mist, and only 
the panting of the engines broke the deep silence 
which brooded over it, save when now and then 
an unearthly scream rang out of its dim recesses. 
Nobody spoke or moved upon the launch’s deck. 
Forward, a crouching object showed dimly in the 
bows; aft, another motionless flgure gripped the 
tiller. Behind seethed the wake, and there was 
darkness fllled with vague terrors ahead. 

153 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

“It’s not a nice place,” said the Shah half 
aloud. “ Still, it mayn’t turn out quite as bad 
as it looks.” 

“We will hope so,” said Benson quietly, 
though his voice was strained. “We came here 
because we wished to, and must make the best 
of it.” 


154 


CHAPTEE XI 

BENSON’S DARK HOUR 

I T was evening, and the pitiless deluge which 
had thrashed the forest all day long had 
ceased a while, when a weary negro rose upright 
in the stern of the canoe to which the officer had 
transferred his passengers. 

“ Factory lib ! ” he cried excitedly. “ One time 
we go catch them Kopelli.” 

“ Kopelli at last,” said Benson, raising himself 
stiffiy, for he was aching in every limb, and Or- 
mond lifted his head. The forest which had shut 
them in opened out ahead, and while the paddles 
thudded faster a patch of white became visible 
between the giant trunks of the cottonwoods. 
Benson was sincerely glad to see it, for the 
canoe boys had lost their way amidst the maze of 
muddy channels, and the party had spent the pre- 
vious night in the dripping canoe while the 
negroes crouched close together in superstitious 
terror, and, so Ormond said, the crocodiles sang 
to them. Both he and Benson were horribly stiff, 
and wet to the skin. 


155 


THE YOUNG TKADERS 

They could now see a long whitewashed shed. 
A second one, slanting over on one side, rose 
behind it, and a decrepit wooden building encir- 
cled by a broad veranda and raised high on poles 
next appeared. Fires burned in the sandy com- 
pound beneath it, and the blue wood smoke hung 
heavily about the forest which walled it in. The 
group of half-naked negroes who crouched about 
them commenced to chatter excitedly. Two of 
them seized the baggage when the canoe reached 
the landing, and the new arrivals followed them 
along a crazy plank bridge across a belt of mire 
and up a stairway to the veranda of the factory, 
where a white man stood. 

“ You have been a long time coming. I sup- 
pose the boys got lost, as usual,” he said. “No 
doubt you will be hungry, and by the time 
you have changed your things dinner will be 
ready.” 

Something about the speaker reminded Benson 
of men he had met in the Indian jungle. He was 
a tall, big-boned man with thin gray hair and a, 
commanding though somewhat hollow face. His 
eyes were very keen, but they were not unkindly, 
and it was perhaps natural that the son of Ben- 
son Sahib should find their expression familiar, 
for their owner was one who had looked unfiinch- 
ingly on many a peril. He wore duck trousers 
and an old cotton jacket over a thin singlet, and 
there was something in his quiet voice which was 
156 


BENSON’S DARK HOUR 

more familiar still. Trader Imrie, like most of 
the men who do the nation’s hardest work in the 
heat of the tropics or the Canadian snow, spoke 
with frank simplicity. They disdain pretense 
and the air of importance, and are usually too 
busy to trouble about what other people may 
think of them. 

The new assistants followed him into the build- 
ing, where a negro found them dry clothing, and 
then sat down to dinner in the big living-room. 
The lamps had been lighted, and Benson was 
amused at the Shah’s face as he looked about him. 
The long room was paneled, but blotches of damp 
stained the timber. The big lamps smoked, for in 
that climate everything is done to encourage ven- 
tilation. Swarms of winged creatures fluttered 
about them, while the legs of the table were set 
in saucers of paraffin to keep the ants away. The 
whole place reeked of mildew and decay, and the 
smell of river mud came in through the open 
windows. 

What struck Benson most of all was, however, 
the appearance of the colored gentleman at the 
bottom of the table. He wore English evening 
dress with very large studs in his white shirt, and 
smiled at the two lads patronizingly. There 
were several rings on his Angers, and his face 
was a dusky yellow in color. 

“ This is Mr. Clarke, the bookkeeper,” said 
Imrie. “ You will begin by helping him to take 
157 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


stock at six o’clock to-morrow. What do you 
think of the country? ” 

“ I have seen very little of it yet, sir,” said 
Benson ; and Imrie laughed. 

“ That is a sensible answer,” said he. “ As a 
rule my new assistants can’t find words bad 
enough for it. No doubt you expected to find 
lions and elephants wandering all over it.” 

“ I’m afraid I did,” said the Shah, coloring a 
trifle. “ Aren’t there any? You mentioned other 
assistants. Have you had many? ” 

Clarke smiled, as though the last question 
amused him, until Imrie glanced in his direc- 
tion. 

“We have had several,” the latter said 
gravely. “ There are no lions or elephants in this 
part of the country, though we have as many 
native wizards, as well as ghosts of all kinds, as 
we can do with. Some day the Government will 
hang them and make room for honest men.” 

The trader looked at Clarke, who seemed a 
trifle uneasy, but his words had roused the Shah’s 
curiosity. “ How could they hang ghosts, and 
what became of the assistants? Were they all 
promoted? ” 

Clarke chuckled, but Imrie answered gravely, 
“ You will find out by and by, and it is not 
judicious to ask too many questions. I suppose 
when you went to school nobody taught you real 


158 


BENSON’S DAKK HOUE 


geography, but, on the other hand, you will know 
everything about bookkeeping.” 

“ I was never at a good school, sir, and am 
afraid I know very little,” said the Shah, with 
unusual humility; and Imrie nodded approval. 

“ Then I have no doubt you will learn a good 
deal,” said he. “ The young man who knows 
everything is generally the least use to anybody, 
and instead of endeavoring to pick up the busi- 
ness, most of your predecessors wdshed to teach 
it me. Since you commenced before us, wouldn’t 
it be well if you saw the stores locked up, 
Clarke? ” 

Imrie spoke quietly, but Benson was not aston- 
ished when Clarke rose with alacrity. When he 
had gone out, Ormond, who could not keep silent 
long, recommenced his questions. 

“ Who is Mr. Clarke, sir? ” he asked. 

“ What time is it at twelve o’clock? ” said the 
trader. “ He is Mr. Clarke. An educated native 
gentleman, and my bookkeeper. You can make 
friends with the Krooboys if you wish to, and 
there are some tolerably fine fellows among them, 
but you will take no undue familiarities with Mr. 
Clarke.” 

This was not very clear, but Benson felt he had 
received a warning as he went on with his dinner. 
There was nothing luxurious about the meal, 
though he liked the highly-spiced mess of fowl 


159 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


and sweet potatoes stewed in yellow oil, and 
there were red bananas, as well as green oranges 
fully ripe, upon the table. Soon after it was over 
Imrie turned to them. 

“ You will be tired, and as you must make an 
early commencement to-morrow, had better turn 
in,” he said. “ You know where your rooms are, 
but there are one or two things to remember. 
Never walk about barefooted, and keep your slip- 
pers where you can reach them without getting 
out of bed. Use the charcoal filter if you drink 
any water, which is not advisable, and make sure 
there are no big spiders about your pillow. You 
want to know why, don’t you? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” said the Shah, and Imrie smiled. 

“ I thought you would. Well, there is a tiny 
thing called a jigger which is fond of burrowing 
into one’s toe, and once it gets in, rears a numer- 
ous family, which eat the foot away. Bad water 
may give you Guinea-worm, which grows inside 
your leg from ankle to knee, and it’s sometimes 
dangerous to be bitten by one of those spiders. 
Now good-night, and remember to rise at six 
o’clock for early coffee.” 

Several hours later Benson still sat in his 
pajamas by the window looking towards the 
solemn forest across the river. Its shadowy vast- 
ness impressed him curiously as the African 
forest impresses hardened men, and there was 
something his nature shrank from in its hot, sour 
160 


BENSON’S DAEK HOUR 


smell. On the other sides of the factory the 
dripping jungle closed in, and it was all so still 
that he fancied he could hear the throb of life 
in the myriad growing things. They did not, he 
had noticed already, grow as they did in Eng- 
land, but tore down and smothered one another, 
rotting to make room for a stronger which 
strangled them while they grew, and he realized 
dimly that there was no exemption from the des- 
perate struggle for existence which went on in 
that country. The smell of death was in its hot 
and stagnant air, and his courage ebbed from 
him as he recalled the warnings he had been given 
on board the steamer, which, disregarded at the 
time, were now unpleasantly plain. There was 
something sinister about this shadowy land, 
where there was no pity for weakness. Then 
Benson started, for while a bright ray of moon- 
light touched the river his door rattled. He was 
glad to see Ormond slip into the room. 

“ It’s suffocating. I can’t sleep ; and I feel I 
must talk to somebody or choke,” he said. “ I 
don’t know how you take it, Hilford, but this 
place frightens me. I don’t know what it has 
done to me.” 

“ I think I know,” said Benson wearily. “ I’m 
sorry I brought you, Persia. Still, we may get 
used to it presently.” 

The Shah shook his head. “ I’d sooner die off 
at once and be done with it, though there’s no 
161 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


use grumbling now,” he said. If ever you say 
you are sorry again you will quarrel with me, and 
it would be a relief to quarrel with anybody just 
now.” 

He broke off abruptly, and as the belt of moon- 
light grew broader, stared with horror in his eyes 
towards a strip of sand and ooze beside the river- 
bank. 

“ Do you see them? ” he said hoarsely. “ Im- 
rie wouldn’t tell us, but that’s where his other 
assistants went to.” 

Benson, looking more closely, saw that the 
strip of sand was partly railed in and checkered 
with the spotless white African lilies, which grow 
wherever decay and corruption are rankest. 
Then he caught his breath a little as he also saw 
rude wooden crosses scattered among them. The 
Kopelli factory was not an old one, but the 
crosses were significantly plentiful. It was evi- 
dent that his predecessors had passed swiftly 
through it to the cemetery. 

“ It’s horrible,” said the Shah, clenching his 
hands in impotent anger. “ They gave us three 
years to die in. It should have been three 
months.” 

Now it is curious that while Benson had felt 
abject a few minutes earlier, his courage partly 
returned when he discovered somebody in a worse 
state than himself. He also recollected words 
his mother had spoken in India, and as their 
162 


BENSON’S DAEK HOUE 


fragrance reached him, remembered the symbol 
of the lilies. Eising in stainless beauty from the 
foulness of decay, they spoke of the resurrection, 
of hope eternal, and life emerging glorified from 
death, as they clustered thickly about each 
wooden cross. Then he shook the vague terrors 
and black despondency from him, and, because of 
the deeds of Benson Sahib, realized in part what 
message those white blossoms which open in the 
darkness had for him. That which he regarded 
as life was but a portion of it, and it was not his 
first care to hold it safe, for since it was eternal 
it could not be destroyed. Men of many races 
had, in that hope and for the honor of their 
faith, gladly laid it down, only to take it up again 
purified. The forest grew dim and indistinct 
under Benson’s eyes, while the river blazed like 
molten silver under the moonlight as the half- 
formed thoughts crept into his brain. At last 
the Shah shook him. 

“ Can’t you say something? I can’t stand this 
awful quietness,” he said. 

Benson laid his hand upon his comrade’s 
shoulder reassuringly. “ Pull yourself together, 
Persia, and face the worst, which may be the 
best,” he said quietly. “ I haven’t the words to 
tell you the things I seem to feel ; but can’t you 
see that, after all, it makes no very great differ- 
ence whatever happens to you or me? ” 

The Shah stared at him in wonder, and shook 
163 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


his head. “ You’re talking nonsense,” he said 
ruefully. “ It matters a great deal to me.” 

“ Does it? ” said Benson gravely. “ I know 
I’m not the one to tell you, because I was afraid 
myself; but you will remember the picture of 
the young officer you used to admire. Do you 
think it mattered so very much to him? ” 

The Shah opened his lips, but said nothing 
audible as he stood with hands clenched for a 
time. Then his face relaxed. 

“ Of course it didn’t,” he said hoarsely. “ If 
it had, he would never have stayed there to be 
shot. I’m beginning to see your meaning. That 
poor beggar was killed, but the honor stayed with 
the flag. Made a fool of myself as usual, but 
I had nobody to teach me these things, you see.” 

“ They’re hard to learn,” said Benson. “ I 
would give a good deal to wipe this night out, 
and because we can’t it will be better to remem- 
ber when the time comes, will it not? ” 

“ I think so,” said the Shah, gulping in his 
throat. “ I’ll go back and sleep. I’ve talked 
too much.” 

He went out softly, and Benson flung himself 
upon his cot, ashamed and yet, though he did not 
know it, the stronger because of his feebleness. 
Still, his consternation had not been unnatural. 
They had bound themselves to the service of a 
factory which, to most white men, served as a 
gateway to the grave. Without a negro crew to 
164 


BENSON’S DAEK HOUE 


help them they never could reach the coast, and 
they had nothing to purchase a passage to Eng- 
land with, while no steamboat would ship a 
deserter from a factory. This, however, did not 
directly concern Benson, for he had signed a con- 
tract and did not think of deserting. It was a 
black night for both of them, but its memory, 
which, when the tribesmen came down after- 
wards, helped them to keep the red flag flying 
above the Kopelli factory. 

Benson rose at six next morning, and assisted 
Clarke to count gin-cases and salt-bags in a 
suffocating shed. With an odd half-hour for 
meals they continued until six in the evening, 
and then sat in the stifling office checking lists 
of flintlock guns and powder-kegs while the per- 
spiration splashed upon the papers. It was nine 
o’clock every day for a fortnight before they fln- 
ished, and there was afterwards little change, 
save that they measured palm kernels and the 
sticky oil which is the staple product of that coun- 
try. Then for a month or two the Shah was sent 
to receive baskets of the little black kernels in an 
iron shed, where swarms of naked canoe-men 
clamored about him and endeavored to bewilder 
him into accepting dirt and shells, while Benson 
helped Imrie in the shop ; where black men fought 
over the old hats, looking-glasses, and umbrellas 
they purchased with the brass tallies paid them 
for their kernels. It was a busy time, and all day 
165 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


canoes slid down the river loaded deep with oil. 
Huge negroes sang wild songs as they plied the 
splashing paddles, and men with long guns and 
matchets kept watch in the stern, for in that 
country the black merchant protects his own, 
and on opportunity seizes his neighbor’s prop- 
erty. 

The canoes went up again with salt and cloth 
and gin, and when the splash of their paddles 
died away, Benson would wonder who bought 
the goods they carried and where they went to. 
Imrie said that no white man knew exactly, but 
the salt and cloth went north on the heads of 
slaves towards the country of the Moslem Sul- 
tans, and then vanished with the camel-trains 
into the Soudan. He said black rulers fought for 
the riverside markets, and waylaid the canoes, 
while brown men farther north plundered the 
merchants and stole their slaves from them, and 
that every piece of cloth which reached its des- 
tination probably cost a human life. Human life, 
he added, was, however, worth very little in that 
country. 

So the time slipped by until there came a 
period of comparative leisure, and one day Ben- 
son found the Shah sitting in a shed while the 
half-naked Krooboys, basking in the heat outside 
it, told him very strange stories in a curious 
mixture of languages. 

“ You seem to be enjoying yourself,” irritably 
166 





THE SHAH PLAYFULLY FLUNG A WOODEN SHOVEL 









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BENSON’S DARK HOUR 


said Benson, who had been endeavoring to bal- 
ance a badly-kept book. 

“ Why shouldn’t I ? ” said the Shah, with a 
complacent grin. “ This country is a fraud and 
a take-in. It pretends to be very terrible, and 
isn’t, as long as you keep well, while I came out 
here to shoot elephants and all kinds of romantic 
things, and spend twelve hours every day weigh- 
ing grease and checking salt-bags. Now these 
beggars’ stories sound like the real thing.” 

“ What would you shoot the romantic things 
with?” asked Benson; and the Shah playfully 
flung at him a wooden shovel, which struck a 
negro. 

“ I didn’t mean you. Sambo, and there’s no 
need to make a fuss, because it couldn’t have 
hurt you much,” said he. “ When you’re amus- 
ing, these stupid niggers look grave as judges. 
Ford, and you know what I mean quite well. 
One could count up figures at Bonner’s, where 
it was a good deal healthier, and one naturally 
longs for excitement and adventures in Africa.” 

A shadow darkened the doorway, and Benson 
saw Imrie smiling at the speaker. “ Then one 
is naturally foolish. There is generally too much 
of it in Africa,” he said. “ So you want excite- 
ment? ” 

“ I think I should like a little, sir,” said the 
Shah distinctly sheepishly. 

“ I dare say you won’t be disappointed pres- 
167 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


ently,” said his master. “Would you like to 
come up the creeks to-morrow with me? ” 

Both answered eagerly, and Imrie smiled 
again. “ It should be safe as yet, though it 
mayn’t be by and by,” he said. “ I’m going up, 
while I can, to recover an outstanding debt.” 

“ Are the natives growing hostile, sir? ” asked 
Benson; and Imrie looked thoughtful. 

“Not openly; but they’re making Ju-Ju, or 
witchcraft palaver, and don’t seem inclined to 
pay their debts, while you have perhaps noticed 
there has not been much oil coming down lately.” 

Benson said he had done so, and Imrie nodded. 
“ That is generally a bad sign. We shall no doubt 
find out something in the native town.” 

The Shah was vehement with satisfaction when 
his master went back to the factory; hut Imrie 
sat talking with two black traders thoughtfully, 
and his face grew grave as he listened to what 
they had to say. 


168 


CHAPTER XII 


THE PLACE OP SACEIFICE 

1 MRIE set out from Kopelli early next morning 
and paddled all day up a muddy channel that 
wound through steamy shade. No ray of sun- 
light pierced through the matted leaves, and it 
was very hot in the branch-arched tunnel, while 
at times the smell of the mire grew nauseating. 
Benson sat silent for the most part, watching the 
great cottonwoods slide past them and the crabs 
that crawled in legions about the water’s edge. 
Now and then a splashing announced the pres- 
ence of a crocodile, or a parrot screamed; but 
there was deep silence most of the time. 

They camped ashore when night came, and 
with the first of the daylight went on again. 
Now, however, the forest became more open, and 
for several hours they paddled past a waste of 
yellow grass the height of a man’s shoulder. Here 
their eyes were almost blinded by the glare, and 
even the canoe boys seemed to sicken under the 
heat until Imrie bade them run the canoe ashore, 
where a palm cast a little shadow. They rested 
a time, and night was not far away when, sliding 
169 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


out of another forest, they came into sight of the 
native village. 

It was by no means imposing, and Ormond was 
clearly disappointed when he surveyed the rows 
of squalid mud huts nestling among the trunks 
of the cottonwoods. A little wood smoke hung 
about them, but it struck Benson that the place 
was strangely quiet, and that the few men loung- 
ing among the bananas made no show of welcome. 
Imrie also appeared thoughtful, and Benson 
noticed his voice was graver than usual as he 
said, “ I see the headman has been mending his 
stockade.” 

“ They don’t seem pleased to see us, sir,” said 
Benson ; and Imrie’s smile was grim. 

“ I don’t think they are,” said he. “ That, 
however, is perhaps natural, considering that I 
have come up to ask about the oil they owe me.” 

Benson said nothing further, for he fancied 
Imrie did not wish to enlighten him, and a few 
minutes later they landed in front of the village. 
Half-naked men of great stature gathered among 
the huts, but none of them spoke, while little 
naked children fled screaming at the sight of the 
white strangers. Benson noticed that Imrie 
spoke sharply to one of the factory boys, and 
that the negro appeared afraid. 

They were shown into an empty mud hut, and 
were summoned to the headman’s dwelling, when 
darkness suddenly closed in. It was a long mud 
170 


I 


THE PLACE OF SACEIFICE 

building, and a meal was ready. The headman 
was an elderly negro of pale bronze color, draped 
in loose white cotton with a curious necklace 
hanging down upon his breast. When Benson 
first glanced at him he fancied that a piece of 
carved wood was attached to the necklace, but 
almost immediately the negro moved one shoul- 
der, and the object disappeared beneath a fold 
of his dress. Behind him stood several scantily- 
clothed men tattooed all over, with curiously- 
knitted hair. They also wore bone charms about 
their necks and wrists, and Benson set them down 
correctly as Ju-Ju men, or magicians. 

“ They don’t look very terrible,” said the Shah, 
inspecting them critically. “ I never saw such 
undressed scarecrows anywhere; and what do 
they wear those things for? It’s curious that 
when we came in the chief had a little wooden 
thing that looked like a crocodile hung about him, 
and now it isn’t there.” 

Imrie stopped him with a warning glance, and 
commenced a long discussion with the headman, 
which lasted until the meal was over. Benson 
managed to enjoy it, but was surprised to see the 
savory mess of chicken stewed in yellow oil, 
followed by sardines and tinned fruits, as well as 
Worcester sauce, while a silver fork was given 
him to eat with. Imrie, who copied the headman, 
gravely sipped the Worcester sauce out of a green 
wineglass, and Benson, who did the same, sup- 
171 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


pressed his astonishment. These things belonged 
to civilization, and seemed out of place in Africa, 
but he had an uncomfortable feeling that behind 
all this there was very real savagery. Except the 
headman and Imrie no one spoke at all, and Ben- 
son, who did not know why, grew uneasy. When 
they returned to their hut Imrie said abruptly, 
“ I am going to send you back to-morrow.” 

“ Can’t you let us stay, sir? ” asked Benson ; 
and Imrie shook his head. 

“ Clarke will want you at the factory,” said he. 
‘‘ That does not satisfy you? Well, you would 
only be an anxiety to me. The headman seems 
inclined to forget his debt, and, to make things 
worse, I fancy he is getting up a Ju-Ju palaver.” 

“ What is that, sir? ” asked the Shah ; and Im- 
rie laughed a little. 

“ It is more than most white men could tell 
you. A Ju-Ju may be anything — a god or a devil, 
the things it endues with power, or its emblem — 
and those rascals with the necklaces are some 
special Ju-Ju’s priests. They are wonderfully 
clever fellows, and don’t like white men, while 
this country is undermined by the secret societies 
they organize.” 

“ What do they do, sir? ” asked the Shah, with 
eager interest. 

“ Harm, as a rule,” said Imrie. “ Plot rebel- 
lion, encourage human sacrifice, and murder nig- 
gers who don’t believe in them. Sometimes they 
172 


THE PLACE OF SACRIFICE 


poison white men, too. Their leaders, so the 
natives say, can render themselves invisible or 
appear in the form of the beast they take for 
the Ju-Ju, the leopard or crocodile generally. 
You will therefore go back to-morrow, but you 
need not hurry, and can take my gun and see if 
you can shoot anything.” 

“ We would sooner stay, sir, and might you not 
want the gun? ” said Ormond. 

Imrie answered drily, “ I would sooner you 
went, and there are times when a man is safer 
without a gun.” 

They went to sleep on couches of sun-baked 
mud, and Benson was awakened by the Shah’s 
hand on his shoulder. “ Get up. There’s some- 
thing curious going on,” said he. 

There was a stir in the village that suggested 
movement without definite sound, but while they 
listened a soft patter of naked feet drew nearer 
the hut. A body of men appeared to be slipping 
through the town as silently as possible. Benson 
sprang from his couch, and was moving towards 
the door when Imrie called out softly : 

“ Lie down at once, and don’t speak a word.” 

It was well he w’as obeyed, for next minute the 
pattering feet passed close by, and somebody 
looked into the hut. The sound grew fainter, 
and was followed by a soft splash of paddles, 
which presently died away. Then all was silent, 
and Benson shivered, for there had been some- 
173 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


thing unpleasantly suggestive in that noiseless 
passage of unseen men. 

“ What does it mean? ” he said to Imrie. 

“ I don’t know, or wish to. Some wickedness, 
most likely,” said the trader. “ A good many 
curious things happen up here which a wise 
white man does not inquire into.” 

Benson managed to sleep, but was not alto- 
gether sorry to leave the native village behind 
next morning, while, as they paddled down 
stream, the Shah, who looked back towards it, 
said thoughtfully, “ I don’t think there are many 
men who would care to stay here alone and 
make that nigger pay up against his will.” 

They camped at evening in a strip of drier 
forest, and the Shah, who felt sick from expos- 
ure to the sun, decided to superintend the cooking 
while Benson wandered into the bush with Im- 
rie’s gun. 

The forest was thinner thereabouts, and he 
pushed inland without great difficulty, but found 
no mark for his gun. There was no sign of any- 
thing living in the bush, and its deep silence had 
commenced to impress him when, remembering 
that darkness could not be far off, he determined 
to turn back again. This, however, was more 
easily decided on than accomplished, and it was 
with something like dismay he presently halted 
near a narrow creek he certainly had not seen in 
coming. Twice he fired the gun into the air, but 
174 


THE PLACE OF SACEIFICE 


save for a shrill screaming of parrots there was 
no answer, and turning from the creek he endeav- 
ored once more to guide himself towards the river 
by the glare between the trunks. 

The light had changed to a lurid crimson when 
he struggled through a belt of grass growing 
shoulder high, and it was well it did not shine 
in his eyes, for by and by the crackling stems 
gave way suddenly before him, and he stopped in 
time on the very edge of a muddy pool. With 
that strange glare upon the oily water it seemed 
filled with blood, while Benson, who looked 
down, felt an instinctive shrinking he could not 
account for. There was nothing very striking 
about what he saw, only a little pool in a muddy 
creek with the grasses trampled on the other 
bank; but his heart beat faster than nsual, and 
he wished the black forest beyond it was not 
quite so still. Then he saw ropes made of creep- 
ers hanging from two small trees opposite him, 
and that one of the ropes was stained, and looking 
more closely he noticed bones in the ooze. 

He drew back with a sick sense of horror, and 
a piece of the rotten bank which broke away fell 
with a splash. As it did so there was a slow 
rippling in the pool, and a horrible head rose 
up, while the oily water lapped softly along a 
ridge of plated back. Benson had seen more 
than enough, and when suddenly a flock of par- 
rots swept shrieking overhead, he turned and 
175 


THE YOUNG TKADEKS 


ran at his best pace towards the forest. He 
fell among the matted grass once or twice, and 
scrambled up in desperate haste with the feel- 
ing that some indefinite horror from the pool 
was close behind him, while, because there is no 
twilight in the tropics, he had hardly reached 
the trees when thick darkness closed down. 

Benson sat down on the root of a cottonwood, 
and tried to laugh at his folly as he drove fresh 
cartridges into the gun. He felt that unless he 
steadied himself he would run on through the 
darkness like a frightened child, for he knew 
the meaning of what he had seen. He had stum- 
bled on a place where men were offered to the 
river deities, and he remembered what Ormond 
had said about the object the headman wore. 
Some time had passed before he could think 
clearly, and then he decided that it w'ould be 
wisest to stay where he was. He would, he 
fancied, only lose himself hopelessly or fall into 
a creek if he wandered farther in the dark, and 
he hoped that in the morning the canoe boys 
would come in search of him. In the meantime 
it was, however, distinctly unpleasant to be left 
alone so near that horrible pool, and he won- 
dered uncomfortably if the crocodiles would 
crawl out, or he had anything to fear from 
snakes. It was, however, warm at least, and 
curling himself up in an angle of the mighty 
roots he was surprised to find himself grow 
176 


THE PLACE OF SACKIFICE 


drowsy, and afterwards decided that he must 
have slept, for the moon was high above the 
cottonwoods and the grass bright with silver 
light when he became suddenly wide awake. 

There was a soft crackle of undergrowth and 
a monotonous singing, and he crouched closer 
among the roots, clenching the gun, for it was 
evident that somebody was approaching. The 
sound grew nearer and louder, then broke off, 
and was followed by the tapping of a drum, 
while Benson, who felt his heart thump pain- 
fully, moistened his dry lips with his tongue. 
Then he held his breath, as not far away men 
rose out of the shadow and, slipping from trunk 
to trunk, sank into it again. In places the 
moonlight shone upon their oily skins, for they 
wore little beyond a waistcloth and a glistening 
matchet slung about them, but more often they 
were scarcely visible. The drum had also 
stopped now, and they moved so silently that 
he could almost fancy they were spirits. One 
or two were smeared with white paint, which 
he did not know at that time was an ominous 
color. 

Then he gasped with amazement as one 
passed close to him, for the man was very like 
Clarke the bookkeeper. Clarke was, however, 
miles away in the factory, and dressed himself 
sumptuously, down to his polished brown shoes. 
He was also civilized, while this man wore only 
177 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


a strip of cotton hanging from one shoulder, 
and was evidently about to take part in some 
horrible rite. Still, he was very like Clarke. 
While Benson stared at him he passed on into 
the gloom, and, still in dead silence, one by one 
further fantastic objects followed him. When 
they had gone there was a stillness which Ben- 
son found strangely difficult to bear, until once 
more a monkey chattered and the rustle of 
unseen beasts came out of the bush. 

Benson moved a little, for he was very stiff, 
and drew a great breath of relief. He would 
sooner have met either beast or snake than those 
men. He also kept his finger on one trigger of 
the gun, and sat wide awake, until at last he 
saw with a great sense of thankfulness the first 
rays of the rising sun. Then rising, he kept the 
light behind him, and ran until he heard the 
undergrowth crackle and slipped behind a trunk. 
He had no wish to meet the men he had seen 
on their return journey, and several men were 
coming. 

The sound grew plainer. He could hear the 
crackle of torn-down creepers and rustle of 
dewy leaves, and crouched closer against the 
trunk, until at last an English voice, which 
sounded strangely out of place, rang out of the 
bush. 

“Hilford! Hilford! Are you anywhere 
about? ” it said. 


178 


THE PLACE OF SACEIFICE 


Benson’s heart bounded, and, stepping back 
from the tree, he fired the gun. The smoke still 
hung about him when the Shah came smashing 
impetuously through a screen of creepers. His 
broad hat was dinged into shapelessness, and 
his clothes were torn by thorns, but his face 
was alight with pleasure, and he choked from 
pure satisfaction in his haste to speak. 

“ Thank goodness we found you,” he gasped. 
‘‘ It was an awful night, and those stupid nig- 
gers, who wouldn’t help me to do anything, kept 
on telling me about supernatural crocodiles and 
horrible things that crawl about looking for 
lost men at night. You are none the worse, 
are you? ” 

“ I am pretty tired and hungry,” said Benson. 
“ I hadn’t a pleasant night, but when I saw you 
floundering through that thicket I felt all right. 
You have evidently been making a considerable 
mess of yourself.” 

The Shah laughed, and then, glancing rue- 
fully at his clothing, displayed one trouser leg 
rent from ankle to knee. The other was caked 
with mire to the thigh, and his boots were filled 
with water. 

“ These things cost a good deal in Liverpool, 
and they’re only fit for the rag-bag, unless one 
of those Ju-Ju fellows would like them now,” 
he said. “ When you’re in a hurry this bush is 
rough on clothes.” 


179 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ Gappy Shah done look for you in them river, 
sah, and he done climb them tree,” said a grin- 
ning negro. “ ‘ Come on, you blackylead dum- 
pus, and find Gappy Benson quick,’ he say me. 
Gappy Shah, he sit and groan like got a bad pain 
inside him all night, sah.” 

“ Get out, you black Ananias ! ” said Ormond 
indignantly. “ If you talk any more or call me 
Gappy Shah I’ll whack you with a shovel when 
we get home to Kopelli. I’m Captain William 
Ormond, Esquire, and only my intimate friends 
call me Shah. Well, what are you still grinning 
at, you wooden-headed nigger? ” 

Now for some reason Ormond was a favorite 
with the woolly-haired heathen who served at 
Kopelli factory, and abuse from him usually 
seemed to tickle their vanity. Therefore the 
dusky man’s comrades who gathered round 
burst into a delighted roar of laughter, in which 
Benson and the Shah joined presently. 

“ They’re an amusing lot, and about as pretty 
as the bottom of an old frying-pan,” said the 
Shah reflectively. “ Now these coal-black im- 
ages would do anything for me, and yet, from 
what Imrie says, they’re quite capable of going 
out at night to murder somebody. I suppose it’s 
their nature and they can’t help it, but when 
you come to think of it some white folks are 
curious, too. Isn’t it time we went back and 
got breakfast? ” 


180 


THE PLACE OF SACKIFICE 


They went back, and the Shah talked ex- 
citedly over the meal, while the more he talked 
the more he ate, and when the canoe started 
lay down upon a roll of matting. 

“ Now you’re with us once more, Hilford, 
I’m quite happy,” said he. “ I haven’t eaten 
as much since I came to Africa. These thick- 
headed muddlers spoiled the supper last night, 
you see. If you let the boys chatter. Black 
Prince, I’ll get up and kill somebody.” 

The big negro grinned. broadly, and when the 
Shah closed his eyes spread a piece of matting 
to keep the sun off him, while, with paddles 
thudding, the canoe slid on down river. Ben- 
son, however, fancied he understood why his 
comrade had not enjoyed his supper. 

They safely reached the factory, and Benson 
felt glad he had not said anything about the 
fancied resemblance when he saw Clarke sitting 
dressed as neatly as usual in the office, for to 
suppose that this well-educated native gentle- 
man would tramp almost naked through the 
bush at midnight with a mob of superstitious 
savages appeared preposterous. Still, he asked 
a Krooboy a question. 

“ Them Clarke he done lib down river for them 
Frenchman factory,” said the negro. 

It was a week before Imrie returned with 
several canoe loads of oil, and he looked grave 


181 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


when Benson, who said nothing about Clarke, 
related his adventures. 

“ You have seen what few white men have, 
and I should not advise you to tell anybody,” 
said he. “ It is distinctly unwise of a white man 
to learn more than he can help about anything 
the niggers don’t want him to.” 


182 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE DEMON OP KOPELLI 

B enson took Imrie’s advice, and said nothing 
further about his adventures in the bush. 
He had other things to occupy his attention, and 
had come to the conclusion that nobody but 
Imrie and his comrade knew what he had seen, 
when, having finished work earlier than usual, 
he stood one evening near the bank of a creek 
which wound through the compound beneath 
the Kopelli factory. It was deep and foul, but 
a broad plank spanned it. The cook stood upon 
the bank dressing some fowls. 

The sun had sunk behind the forest, and 
the great cottonwoods towered black as ebony 
against crimson fiame. The lurid brightness 
fell upon the oily skins of the factory boys who 
crouched about their cooking-fires, and blazed 
along the store shed’s iron roofing, while thick 
clouds of mist rose from the river. 

“ That’s wonderfully pretty,” said the Shah, 
who stood near Benson. “ Reminds one of a 
transformation scene in a pantomime. It only 
wants a clap of thunder and the demons with 
colored lights on them rising through the smoke.” 
183 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


Benson laughed as he glanced at the fantastic 
objects, with the strange tattoo devices upon 
their naked skins, squatting round the fires. 
Then he pointed to the cook, who, holding a 
glistening knife, stood draped from neck to knees 
in loose cotton, which showed vividly white 
against the dusky bush. 

“ There’s the magician, though he rather re- 
minds me of a sacrificial priest, and I never saw 
a pantomime demon as horrible as the one he’s 
going to raise,” he said. 

The negro flung some offal into the creek, call- 
ing out as he did it in a high-pitched voice, which 
broke sharply through the stillness. There was 
no response, and the slimy creek flowed by with- 
out a ripple. 

“ He’s asleep, or perhaps he doesn’t know the 
time,” said the Shah. 

“ No, sah,” said the negro, grinning. “ You 
find out one time if you put you leg in. Think if 
he not done come perhallups I throw all one fowl 
to him.” 

He called again, and the surface of the creek 
heaved muddily, while a strip of plated back 
rose out of it. Again Benson saw the little 
wicked eye, and a huge snout was lifted out of 
the water. It was the snout of a very large 
crocodile. 

The cook flung something, the jaws closed to- 
gether like a great steel trap, and the monster 
184 


THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 


sank from sight. A few air globules rose up one 
by one, and the water heaved sluggishly against 
the bank, then the creek flowed smoothly on. 

The Shah seemed to shiver, and glanced at 
Imrie, who came up with Clarke. 

“ That’s a horrible brute,” he said. “ If it was 
my factory I’d shoot him.” 

“ Then you would be very foolish,” said the 
trader. “Don’t you know that’s the guardian 
spirit of Kopelli, and keeps all kind of worse 
ones away. Isn’t it, Clarke? ” 

Benson fancied the bookkeeper appeared a 
trifle uncomfortable under the white man’s gaze. 

“ There is a good deal of childish superstition 
in this country. The people are very ignorant,” 
said he. 

Imrie made no answer, but when Clarke 
crossed the plank he smiled curiously. 

“ Did you notice that the man who despises 
superstition dropped something in the creek? ” 
he said. 

“ Why should he do it? ” said Benson. “ Of 
course, that brute is nothing more than a common 
crocodile.” 

“ If you are curious you can ask him,” said 
Imrie. “ The educated negro sometimes thinks 
it safer to keep on good terms with the devils 
he does not believe in, and that is not altogether 
a common crocodile. He is, for one thing, the 
biggest I ever saw, and, though a good many of 
185 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

them don’t seem to like human flesh, a man- 
eater.” 

“ These niggers are very stupid,” said the Shah. 
“ One of them told me the brute would know what 
a Ju-Ju man said to him,” 

“ He knows the time at least,” said Imrie drily. 
“ Nobody ever sees him except when Pineapple 
is getting dinner ready, and so long as I can 
recollect he has seldom missed an evening. The 
black traders know it, and it is worth a good deal 
of oil yearly to the Kopelli factory. It is curious 
that one of our civilized employers’ best adver- 
tisements is a fetich crocodile — ^but this is a very 
curious country.” 

Imrie broke off abruptly. It was almost dark 
now, and the river mist had crept across the com- 
pound. Save for the twinkle of the flres the 
broad square was dim and shadowy, for the 
smoke which drifted about it thickened the mist ; 
but following the trader’s eyes, Benson saw a 
tall, almost naked man who did not belong to the 
factory standing among the boys, who appeared 
afraid of him. Imrie, picking up a shovel, ran 
across the plank. Benson went next, with the 
Shah close behind, but when they reached the 
spot where he had seen the stranger, there was 
no one there. Benson stared about him be- 
wilderedly, for the man had not crossed the plank, 
and no canoes had been launched down the bank. 


186 


THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 


Between the compound and the forest stretched a 
belt of almost impassable swamp, and to gain it 
the stranger must have crossed the open space, 
which he had not apparently done. Still, though 
Benson searched where Imrie told him, he could 
find nobody hiding behind the sheds, and, return- 
ing, came upon the latter talking to the negroes. 
They were evidently frightened. 

You saw nothing of him? I hardly expected 
you would,’’ said Imrie, as they w^ent back to the 
dwelling. “ Of course it was a trick, and a 
clever one, but I would have given a good deal 
to catch the fellow and convince the boys he was 
only a man like them. He was one of the bush 
magicians, and probably after nothing good, 
though, so far as I can gather, he only called to 
tell them the Plat River expedition was cut up 
four days ago.” 

That is absurd,” said Benson. It would 
take twice as long to bring the news.” 

‘‘ A fast steam launch could scarcely do it in 
the time,” said Imrie. Still, these fellows have 
their own way of passing on news, and we shall 
hear if he told the truth presently. It is bad 
news if he did, because this success will encourage 
the niggers, and several of the headmen are on 
the point of rebellion already.” 

Dinner was set out when they entered the 
house, and Clarke was already at the table. Ben- 


187 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


son noticed that he did not seem quite at ease, 
and when he helped himself to the palm-oil chop 
he spilled a little of it. 

“ What is wrong with you? ” said Imrie, look- 
ing at him sharply. “ You, at least, should not 
have been frightened by that Ju-Ju fellow.” 

“ He did not frighten me,” said Clarke, though 
Benson fancied his confidence was a trifie forced. 
“ I think I’m catching fever.” 

“ Then take quinine instead of claret,” said 
Imrie shortly. “ You can make it known to- 
morrow that if the gentleman we spoke of ap- 
pears in that fashion again. I’ll fire on him. He 
probably knows by this time that I keep my 
promise.” 

“ Why do you ask me? ” said Clarke, who 
moved his chair; and Imrie laughed. 

“ Because I fancy you should know how to 
warn him,” said he. 

Clarke made no answer, and when they sat on 
the veranda after dinner Ormond said: 

“ Wasn’t there something curious about what 
Imrie said? Clarke didn’t seem to like it.” 

“ I fancied Imrie meant more than he said,” 
was Benson’s thoughtful answer; and the Shah 
nodded. 

“ Imrie generally means a good deal,” said he. 
“ He has a way of noticing everything. Now, 
Clarke is very civil, but somehow the more civil 
he is the worse I like him.” 

188 


THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 


Two or three days went by uneventfully, until 
one evening Benson, closing the shed he had been 
busy in, walked towards the house. There had 
been no snn all day, and it was growing dark 
early, while the mist was unnsually thick. The 
Shah called to him as he approached the plank 
which spanned the creek, and it was unfortunate 
that Benson answered as he stepped out on it. 
He fancied the wood seemed unsteady, but he was 
talking to Ormond, and did not look down. 

He had made another step, when the plank 
turned sideways under him, and there was a 
loud splash as it fell into the stream. Next mo- 
ment there was a second splash, for Benson, flung 
forward, went headforemost under. 

The Shah shouted once, and the terror in his 
voice brought Imrie running down the veranda 
stairway with a rifle in his hand ; then the Shah 
bounded from the bank, and alighting on the 
plank, which tilted beneath him, fell full length 
upon it. 

The board did not quite turn over, and when 
it settled down Ormond saw his comrade’s head 
amidst the floating scum a few yards away. 
Beaching out, he clutched Benson’s hand and 
drew him towards the timber, protesting breath- 
lessly. 

“It’s all right. The water’s very muddy, or 
I’d enjoy the swim,” he said. “ Steady. Yon’re 
pulling my fingers off.” 

189 


THE YOUNG TKADERS 


Be quick ! ” said Ormond hoarsely. “ Get 
your knee on the wood, and I’ll pull you up.” 

It was evident that Benson had not recollected 
that the guardian demon of Kopelli was waiting 
for his evening meal, and it was in no great haste 
he endeavored to swing one leg out upon the 
plank. Its edge was wet and slippery, and he 
slid back again. 

“ Don’t tear my shirt to pieces. I’ll get my- 
self out if you’ll give me time,” he said. 

“ Scramble up ! ” gasped the Shah, moving 
backwards to obtain a firmer hold. ‘‘ There isn’t 
a second to lose.” 

The terror in his voice and the look in his 
staring eyes roused Benson to haste. He knew' 
the Shah was not unduly timorous, and there was 
no doubt that he was horribly afraid. Then, 
recollecting the terrible jaws of the guardian of 
Kopelli, he fiung an arm across the slippery 
board, while Ormond grasped him by the waist. 
He could see over Benson’s shoulder something 
rise with a horrible rippling out of the muddy 
creek, and strove in frantic terror to lift his com- 
rade, while the board tilted as though it would 
turn over and drop both of them into the water. 
Benson slipped back again partly under it, and 
the ridge of the horny back became plainly 
visible. 

Then Imrie came breathless to the bank, and 
flung the rifle to his shoulder. He, however, 
190 



RESCUED FROM THE GUARDIAN OF KOPELUI 





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THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 


feared that the brute’s thickest armor was proof 
even against the penetration of a rifle bullet, and 
he waited in the hope that it might expose a more 
vulnerable part, while the factory boys came 
running to the creek. It had all happened in 
less than a minute, but night comes suddenly in 
that country, and in a few more minutes it would 
be dark. 

Then no one spoke or moved but Benson, who 
splashed furiously, while the Shah’s face showed 
set and white through the gloom as he stiffened 
his grasp. The great reptile appeared uncertain, 
and lay a moment or two quite still with its head 
and back just showing in the center of the creek, 
while Imrie held his breath as he watched it over 
the sights of the rifle. Then the cook, running 
along the bank, flung the fowl he held into the 
creek, and with a heave of one shoulder the brute 
slid forward and vanished amidst a swirl of 
water. 

A negro sprang upon the plank after this, and 
though it partly sank, hove Benson on to it, 
while a clamor of voices went up when all three 
crawled up the bank. 

Benson leaned against a pile of salt-bags, 
trembling a little, while the Shah sat down very 
white in face and apparently choking. He was 
still breathless when they entered the long upper 
room of the factory. 

How did you come to fall in?” said Imrie, 
191 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


replacing the rifle in the rack ; and Benson 
answered stupidly, “ I don’t quite know. The 
plank seemed loose and must have broken under 
me, but I can’t quite recollect.” 

“ I dare say that is natural,” said Imrie, with 
a curious smile. “We will look at the thing to- 
morrow. You were quick to take action, Or- 
mond, and I fancy Benson owes a good deal to 
you. I knew there was something seriously 
wrong, or you would not have shouted, which 
you can take as a compliment from me.” 

“ I don’t want to talk of it,” said Ormond. 
“ It was sickening. I thought the awful brute 
was coming to drag us down.” 

“ To drag Benson down? ” said Imrie. “ You 
were on the plank, you know.” 

Ormond, lifting his face, which was still 
blanched, stared at him in astonishment. “ To 
get both of us,” said he. “ You don’t think I 
would have let him go? ” 

“ I don’t,” said Imrie gravely, with a glint in 
his eyes. “ Well, we’ll say no more about it, 
beyond this — I am satisfled with my last assist- 
ants. Get up, my lad ; dinner is ready.” 

At flrst neither of them had much appetite, 
but the Shah recovered his presently, and made 
a very satisfactory meal. Before it was flnished 
Clarke joined them, and Imrie asked him, “ What 
were the boys chattering about in the com- 
pound? ” 


192 


THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 

Clarke smiled uneasily, and looked at Ben- 
son. 

“ They are very silly niggers,” said he. “ They 
say Mr. Benson must have a big Ju-Ju, because 
the crocodile wouldn’t touch him.” 

“ That is, of course, rubbish,” said Benson, 
and would have continued but that Imrie stopped 
him. 

“ Sometimes a Ju-Ju takes a person under his 
protection without his knowing it. The tJmalla 
headman was a Ju-Ju for three years before he 
found it out,” he said solemnly. 

Next morning Imrie, who had risen before his 
usual time, sent for Benson. 

“ I want to have a talk with you, and, to begin 
with, I’m not sorry to find the boys credit you 
with the possession of a powerful Ju-Ju,” said 
he. It may prove an uncommonly useful de- 
lusion, and I wouldn’t disabuse them. I have 
also formed my own opinion about you and 
Ormond, or I would not say what I am going to. 
You told me you fired the gun three times the 
night you were lost in the bush. What did you 
do with the cartridges? ” 

“ I threw them down,” said Benson. 

“ I thought so,” said Imrie grimly. “ It was 
very foolish of you. Those cartridges and the 
trail you left would show any inquiring negro 
that a white man had probably seen part, at 
least, of a fetich ceremony.” 

193 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


“ It was very stupid,” said Benson. “ Still, 
it can’t be serious.” 

“ I think it is,” said Imrie drily. “ In your 
case I can speak plainly, and you shall judge. 
There are black men who are not fond of me up 
there in the bush, but I don’t cross that plank 
every evening at the same time.” 

Benson gasped as a light broke in upon him, 
and Imrie nodded. 

“I examined it before the boys were about,” 
said he. “ You know how it was fastened at one 
end. Well, some one had cleverly slipped out the 
pins.” 

For a moment Benson felt chilly with horror, 
then the blood rushed to his forehead and his 
eyes blazed. 

“ You mean they set a trap for me? ” said he. 

It looks very like it,” said Imrie quietly. “ I 
wondered whether I should tell you or send you 
away. Now there are two courses open to you — 
to break your engagement with the Company and 
go home, which would be the safer, or stay' here 
and never relax your w'atchfulness a moment. 
The country is, ho^vever, unsettled, and will prob- 
ably be more so still, and I dare say the Ju-Ju 
men will have more important affairs than yours 
to attend to. Which are you going to do? ” 

Benson sat silent a minute, then he rose to his 
feet. “ When I came here I was afraid of the 
place, and I am almost afraid of it still, though I 
194 


THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 


am beginning to like it,” said he. “ You have 
treated us well, and the fever has not touched me, 
while I should probably starve if I went home. 
I also signed an engagement to stay three years 
at Kopelli, and I’m going to keep it. Still, I 
shouldn’t like to bring danger upon my com- 
panion.” 

Imrie laid a firm grasp on the speaker’s 
shoulder. 

“ I’m not disappointed, and you needn’t 
worry about the Shah,” said he. “ The nig- 
gers never take him seriously, which shows 
how foolish they are. Now I know what you 
are made of I don’t mind telling you that we are 
going to have stirring times presently, and pos- 
sibly a wholesale rebellion. As to the Ju-Ju 
people, they have placed a good many prosperous 
traders under their ban, and though I have an 
old feud with some of them, you will notice that 
I am tolerably healthy still.” 

Imrie’s face was very grim, but there was 
approval in his eyes, and Benson, who felt that 
his protection was worth a good deal, went about 
his work satisfied. Still, he shivered when he 
afterwards crossed the creek. 

Next day there was a clamor among the 
negroes as a little white-painted steamer with 
the broad white ensign above her stem came 
hissing down-stream. She stopped her engines 
abreast of the factory for a moment or two, and 
195 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 

a white officer hailed Imrie, who ran towards the 
landing. 

“ I haven’t a minute to spare,” said he. “ The 
niggers have almost rubbed out the advanced 
detachment of Jardine’s expedition. He and 
Charters are badly wounded, and Charters would 
have been killed only that Ogilvie shot a nigger 
about to spear him. I’m going on for the coast 
detachment.” 

“ It is curious,” said Imrie, “ but a bushman 
told me the same thing several days ago.” 

The officer seemed astonished. “If this was 
any other place I’d say it was false,” said he. 
“ Ogilvie sent off a picked crew at once in his 
dispatch canoe, and Johnson, who picked them 
up, drove his launch within an inch of blowing 
her up night and day, while this craft of mine 
does ten knots readily. I’m losing valuable 
moments now.” 

He raised his hand, and when the steamer 
swept away at full speed, Imrie looked at Benson 
significantly. Benson was considerably im- 
pressed, but one name had attracted his attention. 

“ My father had a friend called Captain 
Ogilvie. Do you know the man the officer spoke 
of? ” said he. 

“ I don’t, though he has been out here some 
little time,” said Imrie. “ It is not an uncommon 
name, and I can recollect several Ogilvies. He is 
hardly likely to be your father’s friend.” 

196 


THE DEMON OF KOPELLI 


“ I don’t suppose he can be,” said Benson ; 
but it was a pity he dismissed the subject so 
abruptly. He was proud, however, and had 
already decided that the Captain Ogilvie who 
had known his father had no intention of be- 
friending him. 


197 


CHAPTEE XIV 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 

A HALF-MOON had just risen above the 
dusky cottonwoods and shone red through 
the drifting smoke of the black soldiers’ cooking 
fires, when Captain Ogilvie raised himself on one 
elbow from the waterproof ground-sheet on 
which he lay. His face was grim and weary, 
and he glanced at the stain on the side of his 
tunic with a little frown. 

“ That confounded spear-rib is bleeding again. 
Pat Carolan didn’t strap on the dressing half 
tight enough,” he complained. 

The young white officer who sat close by 
smiled. 

“ I don’t think you could reasonably blame 
Dr. Pat,” he said. “ If I remember, he told 
you he wouldn’t answer for its holding un- 
less you lay still in your hammock. How many 
times did your bearers pitch you out of it to- 
day? ” 

“ Twice,” said Ogilvie. “ The third time they 
only rolled me out gently. These bush paths were 
never made for carrying cripples, and you’ll 
198 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


shortly have an opportunity of trying how you 
like it, Thurstan. It’s almost time to start 
again.” 

Lieutenant Thurstan, who was very muddy, 
glanced at the black soldiers, who were lying 
about the fires, and who were muddier still. They 
had been struggling through foul morasses on 
their way to a rebel headman’s stronghold for 
several days, and their ochre-colored uniforms 
showed here and there in pale blotches under the 
dickering glow. They were a mixed detachment, 
Yorubas, and Haussas from the Mohammedan, 
hinterland, and, since they had seen their com- 
rades shot down from ambush not long ago, were 
as eager as their white leaders to settle accounts 
with the heathen headman. 

“ I suppose,” said Thurstan, “ there’s no rea- 
son for making any change in our original 
plan?” 

“ I don’t know any,” and Ogilvie looked at 
another white man who lay not far away. 
‘‘What do you think, Mr. Lamb?” 

“ I fancy it’s as good a one as you could make,” 
commented the trader, who had come up with 
them as guide. “ As you know, the stockade’s a 
strong one, and if you went the front way there 
would be very little chance of your getting in. I 
believe I can find the back one, though I’m not 
certain, and, since the niggers know you’re 
wounded, your notion of sending Lieutenant 
199 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


Thurstan up in a hammock with the feint at- 
tack seems an excellent one.” 

Ogilvie nodded. ‘‘If the bushmen’s scouts 
hear him coming — which is very probable — 
they’ll be less likely to look for us,” he said. 
“ Hadn’t you better rouse Wister, Thurstan, and 
see why that cook-boy hasn’t brought the 
coffee?” 

Thurstan moved away, and twenty minutes 
later there was a clatter and jingle and a patter 
of naked feet as the black troops fell in among 
the dripping undergrowth. Their rifles twinkled 
in the sinking glow of the fires, and the black ser- 
geants’ orders rang sharply through the stillness 
of the bush. As it happened, the white officers 
were quite willing that any of the bushmen’s 
scouts who might be in the vicinity should see 
or hear them. Then Ogilvie was lifted into a 
hammock and carried to the rear of the detach- 
ment, while Thurstan went to the head of it. 
Somebody gave the word to march, and in 
another minute the glade was empty. 

For an hour or two they plodded with no great 
difficulty along a native path that wound in and 
out among the cottonwoods, over comparatively 
dry land, but the men halted when it swung 
sharply round a waste of tall grass. Ogilvie 
sent for the two white officers. 

“ I think you quite understand what you have 
to do? ” he said. “ You’ll contrive to approach 
200 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


the stockade towards one o’clock and demon- 
strate, firing odd volleys to keep the niggers oc- 
cupied and to let us know you’re there. Then 
if you don’t hear us, you’ll fall back again, and 
be guided by circumstances if the niggers come 
out after you. On no account attempt to rush 
the stockade if we don’t turn up.” 

“They would scarcely carry it with a bat- 
talion,” said Trader Lamb. “ The headman 
has several guns, and there’s a creek in front 
of it.” 

“ Another thing ! ” said Ogilvie. “ Unless it’s 
imperatively necessary for him to get out, Thurs- 
tan will stay, in the hammock. Do anything else 
that suggests itself as likely to make the niggers 
think you’re the whole of the expedition. That’s 
all, I fancy. Good luck to you ! ” 

This time the orders were given softly, and the 
little detachment broke up when the men plodded 
on. Some of them followed the winding path 
with Lieutenant Thurstan in a hammock at their 
head, but the rest, a larger body, plunged with 
Ogilvie into the misty waste of grass. The keen- 
edged blades met above their shoulders, and they 
sank to the knees in mire most of the time. In 
places they found it difficult to pull their feet out 
of it again, and Ogilvie’s bearers floundered, 
shaking him in his hammock until the blood 
soaked through dressings and tunic from the gap 
the spear had made in his side. He was consid- 
201 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


erably more fit to be nursed in hospital than to 
take command of an expedition against a rebel 
stockade. By and by he called the trader to him, 
when the moonlight showed a wide stretch of 
mire and water in front of them. 

“ I suppose this is the road? ” he said. “ There 
are some almost as bad in India, but this cer- 
tainly doesn’t look like one.” 

The trader laughed. “ The thick bush ahead 
seems familiar, and I think we’re right. A swamp 
road is thought safe up here, as long as you don’t 
sink beyond your middle.” 

Ogilvie made a little gesture. “ I can’t see of 
what use a country of this kind is to anybody, 
but that isn’t the question. Take them on — the 
dryest way you can find — when they’ve got their 
breath again.” 

They went on in another few minutes, and did 
not sink quite knee-deep as they struggled 
through the mire, though Ogilvie’s bearers stum- 
bled and dropped him into it. He was, however, 
as he said, getting used to this, and only ordered 
them to scrape him before they put him back 
again. It was not very much better when they 
reached the bush, for here great ropes of creep- 
ers with thorns on them now and then tripped up 
soldiers and bearers, and had to be cut through. 
It was difficult to see where they were going, 
since only here and there a stray ray of moon- 
light streamed down into the dim recesses of the 
202 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


bush, and the steamy heat was almost insupport- 
able. Ogilvie groaned now and then, while the 
perspiration dripped from him and the damp 
stain on his tunic grew wider. Still, nobody 
seemed to hear them, and when they stopped 
again for a few minutes. Lamb said, as he stood 
by Ogilvie’s hammock: 

“ It looks as if we would get in unnoticed. If 
the bushmen have any scouts out they’ll be 
watching the easier path. You see, there are 
only one or two white men in the country who 
could have led you in by this one.” 

“ It seems to me hardly likely that your black 
friends will feel much obliged to you for doing 
it,” said Ogilvie dryly. “ Mightn’t some of them 
take it into their heads to burn your factory? ” 

The moonlight showed the little grim smile in 
the trader’s eyes. “They’ve laid hands on too 
much oil coming down to me to count as my 
friends, while it’s fortunate the factory’s rather 
a long way off. Besides, it ought to keep them 
quiet if you get in and blow up their stockade. 
If you don’t, it’s probable that the looting of my 
stock wouldn’t matter very much, as in that case 
I haven’t any great expectation of getting back 
alive.” 

Ogilvie looked at the steamy forest, which was 
laced with tangled creepers and blocked with 
rotting, fallen trunks, and fancied that Lamb 
was right. It would, he realized, be remarkably 
203 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


easy for even a very few bushmen who knew their 
w'ay through it to wipe out with their flintlock 
guns a much stronger detachment than his was. 

“ Well,” he said, “ the flrst thing is to find their 
village, and we’ll push on. If it’s as far away as 
you seem to think, we haven’t much time to lose.” 

They went on, and it was an hour later when 
the crash of distant firing rang across the forest. 
Ogilvie once more stopped his men so that he 
could listen. 

“ Flintlock guns ! Thurstan has fallen in with 
the bushmen,” he exclaimed. “ Does the sound 
come from where the stockade is? ” 

The trader said nothing for almost a minute, 
and while they listened the bush was very still. 
Ogilvie could hear his men moving uneasily and 
the moisture splashing on the leaves. Then a 
sound that resembled a dull, heavy thud reached 
them. He recognized it before his companion 
spoke. 

“ That decides the thing,” he said. “ They’ve 
struck the stockade, and the niggers have emp- 
tied one of their old cast-iron guns at them.” 

Get on,” cried Ogilvie hoarsely. “ As hard 
as you can ! ” 

There was no need to urge the men. They had 
heard the firing, and set out at a shuffling run. 
One of them fell down now and then, hut smash- 
ing through tangled creepers and splashing in 
pools of mire, they made, all things considered, 
204 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


a creditable pace, and Ogilvie set bis lips as he 
swung beneath the jolting hammock-pole. By 
and by the silence that had fallen again was bro- 
ken by the sharp ringing of riflery, and the pace 
grew faster still. The men nearest the hammock 
boys clutched them by arm and shoulder and 
drove them along, while twice in quick succes- 
sion the forest flung back the crash of a rebel gun. 
The bearers were panting and gasping. They 
blundered into tree trunks and creepers as they 
ran, but somehow they contrived to keep their 
feet, and at last the breathless company swung 
out into a clearing. 

The forest broke off suddenly behind them in 
a black and shadowy wall, and in front the moon- 
light shone down on rows of oblong huts. To 
the right of them, where black palms closed in 
again, little red fires were burning and shadowy 
figures with twinkling matchets and flintlock 
guns moved athwart the glow. Beyond these in 
turn stretched the dim serrated line of the stock- 
ade. A glance showed Ogilvie that they had, as 
his guide had promised, come in behind it. 

“We have them now,” he said. “ They couldn’t 
traverse one of those guns in less than twenty 
minutes. Here, Sergeant Samadu ! ” 

A dusky man wheeled round and faced the 
hammock, swinging his hand up, and Ogilvie 
raised himself a trifle. Then there was a sharp 
command, and, as the men stopped, a clatter of 
205 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


bayonets on the rifle muzzles. Once more Ogil- 
vie’s voice rang harshly, with that of the black 
sergeant after his, and the men went on at the 
double, with the bearers still gasping and floun- 
dering close behind the first of them. They did 
not go far, however, for the bushmen’s flintlocks 
squibbed and flashed in front of them, and Ogil- 
vie, pitched out headforemost, came down heav- 
ily. He was up in a moment, and came near 
stumbling over one of the hammock boys who 
lay groaning. When he looked around the others 
had gone, though a black soldier close by held a 
waist-cloth, which had apparently belonged to 
one of them, in his hand. 

“ Get hold of me. Sergeant Samadu — on this 
side,” he said. “ What is that section straggling 
for? Some of them stopping and firing! Send 
them on. They know they’re to go for the gun- 
ners with the bayonet.” 

The black sergeant may not have quite under- 
stood the words, but he grasped their import, and 
his voice in the native tongue rang through the 
patter of firing. A yell rose in answer, and Ogil- 
vie, leaning on his companion, hobbled forward 
as best he could, while his men went headlong 
at the guns. There would be, he knew, no stop- 
ping them, and probably very small prospect of 
directing them now. They had most of them 
been soldiers and slave-stealers in their own 
country, and were men who believed in Allah 
206 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


and his warrior Prophet, while at the whir of the 
first shot the restraints of the white man’s drill 
fell away from them. Each carried a good Gov- 
ernment rifie, and in front were the heathen, dogs 
of unbelievers who, skulking in ambush, had shot 
their comrades down. That was enough. The 
white man could come on in his own time, and 
they went on, in the loosest kind of order, with 
bayonets twinkling and their shouts of vengeance 
ringing before them. 

Then a somewhat curious thing happened, for 
Ogilvie’s strength suddenly came back to him, 
and when the sergeant became separated from 
him as they stumbled through a strip of matted 
grass, he ran on alone. Close in front he could 
see a swarm of half-naked bushmen toiling des- 
perately to traverse one of their old guns, while 
the rest were scurrying like startled ants about 
the shadowy stockade. It was evident that they 
did not know what to make of this attack. Ogil- 
vie shouted his hardest, and some of the black 
soldiers heeded him. With a pistol spitting in 
his hand, he hurled them at the gun the negroes 
were traversing. 

The bushmen, however, did not wait for them. 
They had doubtless expected their enemies to 
come by the easier path, commanding which were 
several big guns well loaded with nails, lumps of 
iron, and broken bottles, and it was disconcert- 
ing to be taken in the rear in this fashion. It 
207 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


was also one thing to fight behind a strong 
stockade and quite another to meet the wicked, 
twinkling bayonets in the open; so most of the 
bushmen just stopped to blaze off their fiintlocks 
before they flung them down and ran. They 
were the fortunate ones, for, while one of the old 
guns, exploding, hurled a kegload of broken cast 
iron harmlessly into the forest, another detach- 
ment of black soldiers came scrambling over the 
stockade, and some of the bushmen found that 
they had waited too long. 

In the meanwhile Ogilvie, who reeled a little 
as he ran, reached the gun and then, falling over 
a wounded black man crawling in the grass, 
went down headlong. He found himself unable 
to get up again and saw very little of anything 
that went on during the next few minutes. In 
fact, his scattered senses were only coming back 
when Lieutenant Wister stopped beside him and 
attempted to pick him up. 

“ Are you hurt, sir? ” asked the lieutenant. 

“ No,” said Ogilvie stupidly. “ I don’t think I 
am. In fact, I don’t quite know what I was 
sitting here for. Still, I don’t seem to see you, 
or the niggers — or anything — ^as I ought to 
do.” 

The young oflScer nodded, as though he un- 
derstood. “ I fancy the spear cut you got in the 
last affair has something to do with it,” he said. 
“ Any way. I’ll send a file or two to carry you 
208 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


to the headman’s hut. In the meanwhile, with 
your permission, I’d better see what my bandits 
are doing.” 

“ Stop a minute ! You have turned the bush- 
men out? Any casualties? ” 

“ One private wiped out, four or five of them 
winged. There are a few bushmen scattered 
about in the grass. The rest got away. I don’t 
think there’s a soul in the village, but Thurstan 
has the headman.” 

Ogilvie asked nothing further, but let the black 
soldiers who came up carry him away between 
them, and it was an hour later when he once 
more lay in his hammock, which was hung be- 
tween the veranda posts of the rebel headman’s 
hut. He felt very dizzy and somewhat faint, 
but most white men in that country are ac- 
customed to those sensations, and he had, at 
least, received no new injury. The trader and 
Lieutenant Thurstan sat on the steps beneath 
him. 

“ We’ll burn the stockade to-morrow or blow 
it up,” said Olgivie. “ I’m especially pleased 
you got the headman. It will keep these fellows 
quiet for awhile. Still, as a matter of fact, it’s 
the men behind Kopelli who may give us most 
trouble. What kind of man is the factory agent 
there, Mr. Lamb? ” 

“ Imrie? ” asked the trader. “ You couldn’t 
have picked one who would handle the niggers 
209 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


more judiciously. He’ll keep out of a quarrel 
while he can, and if he can’t avoid one, there’s 
nobody more likely to hold his own.” 

“ He will have two or three clerks with him. 
Are the rest to be relied on? ” 

“A nigger bookkeeper — I wouldn’t trust the 
man myself — ^and two white lads ! ” 

“ They wouldn’t count,” asserted Thurstan. 

They’re probably sick of fever half the time 
and too young to be trusted if the crisis comes.” 

“ Well,” said Lamb reflectively, “ Imrie seemed 
to have some confldence in them, and he’s not 
often mistaken. They didn’t appear to have 
much fever, either. One of them — Benson, I 
believe — was born and lived a while in India. 
We have several officers on these rivers who came 
from there, besides Captain Ogilvie, and you 
may have noticed that they don’t seem quite so 
subject to the malaria as the rest of us.” 

“Benson?” said Ogilvie. “A lad who was 
born in India! It’s a curious thing, but in a 
way I could consider myself a trustee for a lad 
of that description and can’t trace him.” 

He was silent for a few moments, and it seemed 
to cost him an effort when he went on again: 
“ Could you tell me anything more about the lad? 
It’s — I mean — where’s that draught Carolan 
gave me, Thurstan? Don’t feel quite myself. 
Here, somebody ” 

He got no further, and when he sank back in 
210 


CAPTAIN OGILVIE 


his hammock Lieutenant Thurstan, who sprang 
to his feet, made the trader a little sign. 

It’s very much what one would have ex- 
pected. That cut of his has evidently been 
bleeding all the time,” he said. “ If you will call 
the sergeant yonder we’ll try to strap the com- 
press tighter on the wound when we get him in 
the hut.” 

Lamb did as he was bidden, but, though they 
did what they could for him, Ogilvie was burn- 
ing with fever before the morning. It was a 
short attack, however, and left him a few days 
later very weak but sensible; but by that time 
the trader had gone back to the coast with the 
prisoners and Lieutenant Thurstan, and there 
was no one of whom he could make inquiries con- 
cerning Benson. He fell in with a Government 
physician on his way back through the bush, and 
the doctor insisted on his lying still in the near- 
est outpost, while when his strength came back he 
was sent away up a muddy river where none of 
the few black traders who spoke English knew 
anything about Imrie or the inmates of his 
factory. 


211 


CHAPTEE XV 


KING OKIE! 

F oe several weeks after the steam launch 
called there, many rumors reached the 
Kopelli factory, until at last a white trader 
brought definite news. The black troops, he said, 
had captured the hostile headman and burned his 
village. 

“ Then we can expect quietness for a time,’’ 
said Imrie, with evident satisfaction. “ If they 
had allowed that fellow to boast of having beaten 
them, all his neighbors would have joined him. 
It must have been a difficult piece of work. iWho 
took up the expedition? ” 

“ Captain Ogilvie,” said the trader. “ He 
seems a capable man, and led the assault on the 
stockade in person, though they carried him up 
to it. Jardine said Ogilvie, who was stabbed in 
the first affair, was hardly fit to stand, but he 
went in on foot at the head of the company when 
the niggers shot his hammock boys under him.” 

Having already decided that the Captain 
Ogilvie his father knew was either dead or un- 
willing to assist him, Benson asked few questions, 
though he hardly shared Imrie’s satisfaction. 
212 


KING OKIRI 


He and Ormond had been excited at the prospect 
of a possible skirmish, and Imrie said there 
would now be tranquillity again. 

This proved to be the case. Rumors reached 
the factory of unlawful fetich rites being carried 
on in the bush, and the building of stockades, but 
there was no fighting, and the oil Imrie dealt in 
came down as usual. So twelve months slipped 
away, and nothing broke the monotony of Ben- 
son’s life at Kopelli. They worked from six in 
the morning until six at night, and then sat on 
the veranda until it was time to sleep again. It 
was dark when the daily task was finished, for 
there is little change in the length of night and 
day in the tropics, and there was no amusement 
possible. Quaggy swamps hemmed the factory 
in, and few white men could have forced a passage 
through the creeper-choked forest behind them. 
Sometimes he and Ormond fell sick of fever, but 
neither took it badly, and though their faces grew 
pallid they did not wholly lose the vigor the 
English climate had given them, while perhaps 
because the restlessness of the bush tribes occu- 
pied the Ju-Ju magicians’ attention, Benson was 
left in peace. Imrie, however, suffered consider- 
ably from fever. 

At last, as they sat at dinner one evening, when 
Benson felt dejected and tired of the monotony, 
a negro came panting up the stairway with a 
factory boy behind him. 

213 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 

“ This bushman say them Okiri headman done 
go chop all them oil Big George send down,” said 
the latter. 

Imrie’s eyes glistened, and asking the negro a 
few sharp questions in the native tongue, he 
sent Ormond for the ledger. “ I wish to see what 
that oil is worth at once,” he said. 

His face grew stern when he opened the book, 
and Benson, who knew Big George had received 
a good deal of salt and cloth from the factory, 
waited with growing interest. 

“ You are curious to know what has hap- 
pened?” said Irmie at length. “Big George, 
who is an honest man, sent down the oil he owes 
us, and the Okiri headman seized his canoes. 
There is a rascally practice known as chopping 
prevalent in this country, though I hardly fancied 
Okiri dare try it with me. Suppose some one 
owes a nigger headman money, the latter seizes 
the first lot of produce he can, and tells its owner 
to go and recover its value, and whatever else 
he thinks proper, from the other man.” 

“ There is no sense in that,” said Ormond. 
“ It looks to me like this. When Benson owes 
me ninepence I take a shilling from Clarke and 
tell him. he can make Benson pay him one-and- 
six.” 

“ That’s about it,” said Imrie drily. “ You 
will recollect, however, that the nigger Clarke 
stands for would probably have to fight for his 
214 


KING OKIEI 


eighteenpence. I have in the present case no 
right to ask Big George to pay his debt twice.’’ 

“ Will you ask the Consul to send up a 
steamer, sir?” said Benson. 

“ I will not,” said Imrie. “ I’ll ask you to go 
down river at once and borrow the Frenchman’s 
launch. The Consul has enough to do keeping 
the niggers quiet just now, and it would require 
a company of black troops to recover that oil 
from Okiri.” 

“ But you are not going to let him rob us,” 
said the Shah in amazement ; and Imrie laughed. 

“ Very few black men have robbed me, though 
a good many would have liked to,” said he. “ I 
think I shall get that oil back from Okiri without 
worrying anybody.” 

Benson went down river, and, borrowing the 
steam launch, picked up Imrie and Ormond next 
morning. They steamed at full speed all day, 
and it was evening when Imrie stopped the 
launch’s engines opposite a mud-built village 
resembling the one they had visited before. He 
had with him a few muscular Krooboys from 
Liberia, all tolerably skillful with the long flint- 
lock gun, but he bade them leave the guns on 
board the launch when they went ashore. 

“ Most of Okiri’s men are away gathering rub- 
ber just now, which is fortunate,” said he. 
“ Still, the headman is a dangerous rascal, and 
might not hesitate to back up fraud by violence 
215 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


in times like these. We are therefore going to 
act with diplomacy, and see whether the white 
man’s moral force is not superior to the negro’s. 
If I had not felt you could be trusted, I would 
not have brought you.” 

Neither Benson nor his companion felt quite 
easy as they followed him through the village. 
A few big men with matchets scowled at them. 
Others sat about the huts with flintlock guns, 
while behind the stockade stood several old cast- 
iron cannons, and it struck Benson that Imrie 
had embarked upon a somewhat daring venture. 

“We are not a very strong force to worry a 
black king in his own den, but Imrie’s a wonder- 
ful man, and I dare say knows what he’s going to 
do,” said Ormond as he glanced at the guns. 

“ He generally does,” said Benson. “ That is 
no doubt why he is generally successful.” 

The headman received them graciously, and if 
he had any idea of what they came for, hid it very 
well. He also prepared a feast for them, and 
asked no questions until the meaJ was over. 
Then he grinned as he said, “ I am always 
pleased to see you, but do not want any cloth 
or gin. The last gin was half water, and the 
cloth had holes in it.” 

He spoke through an interpreter, though Imrie 
understood the native tongue, and Benson waited 
curiously for the trader’s answer. 

“ Tell him he is mixing things up,” said Imrie. 

216 


KING OKIRI 


“ The goods he complains of must have been the 
lot he bought from the German factory, and he 
paid more for them than he would have done at 
Kopelli.” 

Okiri appeared a little astonished, and Ormond 
nudged his friend. “ That was one for the head- 
man. He evidently did not wish us to hear 
about that deal, but Imrie knows everything. 
He’s going to beat the rascal yet,” he said, chuc- 
kling. 

“ What have you come for? ” asked Okiri 
presently. 

“ To see my friend Okiri,” said Imrie. “ These 
white men also wished to inspect your village. 
They say they have seen nothing like it in 
England, and were admiring your guns. That 
was a waste of money. King Okiri, for everybody 
knows you are a friend of the Government and 
a peaceable man. There were also several big 
oil canoes which started for Kopelli and never 
got there. I fancied you might have heard what 
had become of them.” 

The black chief looked at Imrie reproachfully 
as he said, “ There are some very dishonest people 
up river, and perhaps Big George told lies when 
he said he had sent down the oil. It is because 
of those dishonest people I bought the guns, but 
I am King Okiri, and would allow no white men 
to insult me, saying I had stolen things.” 

Benson, who felt that this was meant as a 
217 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


warning, noticed a twinkle in the eyes of Imrie, 
who had not alluded to Chief George at all. 

“ Still, because I am a friend of the Govern- 
ment, I say look in all my sheds, and if you can 
find any oil from Big George’s country I will give 
it you,” said the headman. 

‘‘If you tell me that you have none, I would 
not think of looking,” said Imrie. “ I will leave 
you these presents, and, hoping you will let me 
know should you hear who stole my oil, go back 
to-morrow.” 

He gave Okiri a fireman’s brass helmet and a 
clockwork locomotive, and when they returned 
to their own quarters sat down laughing softly. 
“ I think we are going to manage it. I have 
found out what I wished to know,” said he. 

“ But he would never have invited us to search 
the village if there was any oil here,” said Ben- 
son. 

“ Of course not ! ” said Imrie. “ That was the 
first thing I wished to find out, and he foolishly 
told me. He has hidden the canoes up the creek, 
and will very probably send them away down 
river to-night. What is more, as he is a little 
uneasy about me, he will keep most of his 
retainers here, and send the canoes off lightly 
guarded.” 

“ But they will be miles away by sunrise to- 
morrow, sir,” said the Shah ; and Imrie laughed 
again. 


218 


KING OKIEI 


“ So, I hope, will we,” said he. “ I told Black 
Prince, who was a steamboat stoker, to bank the 
launch’s fires, and when the people have all gone 
to sleep we’ll slip out quietly and steam after 
the canoes. The only difficulty will be the get- 
ting away, because Okiri, who would certainly 
stop us, is capable of fighting for his stolen 
property.” 

“ Mightn’t it be well if I and some of the boys 
waited on board the launch, sir? ” said the Shah; 
and Imrie laughed at him. 

“ Okiri is not a fool. That would show him 
exactly what we meant to do,” he said. 

“ But he has put the boys in a hut in the central 
avenue,” persisted the Shah. “ If anybody was 
keeping watch they couldn’t well help seeing 
them creeping out. There’s only one entrance, 
and that’s right in front.” 

“ You have eyes,” said Imrie, smiling. “ Eyes, 
however, are not much use without a brain. The 
boys won’t use the entrance. They’ll go out at 
the back — through the roof.” 

Ormond asked no more questions, and they 
sat silently near the entrance of the hut, looking 
out across the native town. Wisps of blue smoke 
hung about it, for the air was hot and still, and 
its aromatic smell mingled with the odors of the 
bush, which rose above the clustering huts like 
a great black wall. There was no moon, but the 
blue circle was studded with stars. At times 
219 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


a drowsy voice rose out of the shadows, or a 
strange, shrill cry from the forest intensified the 
silence. 

“ I am going to sleep for two hours, and you 
wdll do the same if you are wise,” said Imrie at 
last. 

He lay down on a couch of baked mud, and 
when the sound of his deep breathing warned the 
others that he slept, Ormond touched Benson. 

“ I wish I had a nerve like that,” he said. “ I 
could scarcely close my eyes if anybody offered 
me five pounds a minute, but Imrie would sleep 
all night if he were to be shot in the morning. I 
said he would beat Okiri. He’s a wonderful 
man.” 

Benson nodded. “ It will make a big differ- 
ence in the factory’s profits if we succeed,” said 
he. “ In the meantime there’s no use worrying 
about what may happen if we fail, but I shall 
not be sorry when we’re on our way down river 
again.” 

They sat close together for what seemed a 
very long time, though Benson held up his watch 
to the starlight every few minutes, and at last 
touched Imrie gently. He stood up fully dressed 
and wide awake, and moved towards the entrance 
of the hut. 

“ Slip out after me, and make straight for the 
river,” he said. “ When you reach it lie down on 
the bank until I come.” 

220 


KING OKIEI 


He crept round the hut, and then, pointing in 
the direction of the river, slipped out of sight 
beyond the corner, while Benson hardly dared to 
breathe, as, treading very softly, they stole past 
the scattered dwellings. As they approached the 
last one the Shah tripped and went down head- 
long. 

“ Lie still,” gasped Benson, and, slipping back, 
flattened himself against the wall. He waited a 
few seconds listening to the beating of his heart 
before a hoarse voice called out inside the hut. 
Next there was a rustle, and a head appeared in 
the doorway, but the man was probably only 
half awake and went back with a growl. Then 
the Shah rose softly, and, crawling forward, they 
broke into a run and presently came panting to 
the river-bank. No one else had reached it, but 
the launch lay moored out in the stream. A trail 
of faintly luminous vapor hovered about her 
funnel, and a long dark shape with something 
which looked like a small haystack in its center 
floated behind her. 

“ I hope Imrie will not be long,” said Ormond, 
as he sprawled at full length upon the sun-baked 
earth. “ It looks as if some niggers had made 
their canoe fast to the steamer and camped for 
the night. I hope they haven’t got any of those 
beastly guns.” 

“ Keep still ! ” said Benson, and had hard work 
to check a shout when he felt a touch upon his 
221 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


arm, and saw the grinning face of a negro close 
beside his own. More rose noiselessly behind 
him, for, because a man learns to move silently 
when otherwise his life may pay the forfeit, the 
swamp belt heathen can crawl through the bush 
like serpents. 

Then Imrie came forward. 

“ There is somebody on board the canoe,” he 
said half aloud. “ We can’t haul the launch in 
without rousing them, and then we should have 
Okiri’s men down on us with matchets before we 
could get away. A couple of the boys must swim 
out and loose the cable so that the rest of us can 
wade to her when she swings into shallow 
water.” 

A minute later Benson slid into the water be- 
hind the negroes, and envied them as the two 
black heads drew away from him. The current 
ran strong, but they forced their way across it 
with scarcely a ripple, while he dare not exert his 
strength for fear of splashing. He was breath- 
less when a strip of black hull seemed sliding 
past him, and could see no negro anywhere. Still, 
when he clutched at the launch’s rail and missed 
it, a black arm was stretched out and wet fingers 
grasped his shoulder. They held him for a few 
minutes, and while they did so he saw the dis- 
tance between the launch and canoe widen 
rapidly, until the native craft was lost in the 
shadow. Then there was a soft splashing, and a 
222 


KING OKIRI 


negro swung himself on board the launch just 
as his comrade dragged Benson up. 

He heard the thud of a matchet on the anchor 
rope, and a splash as the other rope ran slackly 
into the water. After that the bank commenced 
to slide past them, and in a few more moments 
a cluster of dark objects rose out of the water. 
One negro checked the rope, and Benson drew a 
breath of relief when Imrie and the Shah climbed 
in over the rail. 

“ Stir the fire. Prince. Stand by the engine, 
Benson,” said the former. “We’ll let her drift 
a while, and then pick up the canoe with- 
out wakening the niggers on board her if we 
can.” 

Benson grasped the lever and stood gazing back 
at the tall forest behind the village, which slid 
away astern, until Imrie called to him. Some- 
thing a little darker than the water lay ahead, 
and while with propeller throbbing softly the 
launch crept forward, he watched it intently. 
Imrie stood upright with the tiller in his hand, 
and a Krooboy lay flat in the bows, stretching out 
one arm over the water. Because the muddy 
water of African rivers is bad for boilers, the 
launch had been built with condensing engines, 
which make comparatively little sound, and she 
closed with the dark object ahead at every revo- 
lution. 

Suddenly Imrie shoved the tiller over, and as 
223 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


the bows canted, the negro forward clutched at 
something sliding past below. He rose with a 
soft cry, flung the end of a creeper rope to a 
comrade, and there was a thud as the canoe 
swung astern. Then somebody shouted, and con- 
fusion broke out on board the craft in tow. 

“ Give her full steam and force the fire,” said 
Imrie, with a laugh. “ We’ll run those fellows 
down a mile or two before they gather sense 
enough to cut the line. The river makes a big 
sweep, and Okiri might have time to head us off 
if any one warned him. As they may have guns 
on board, keep down.” 

A tongue of red flame leaped out from the 
funnel, and the launch trembled as her engines 
quickened their stroke. White froth piled up 
about her bows, and the canoe astern, lifting 
herself forward, rushed along through a seething 
mass of foam. Once or twice a man cried out on 
board her, but did nothing more, for the launch 
was a powerful one, and a craft towed at high 
speed readily turns over. Wakened suddenly 
by the motion, her crew were probably panic- 
stricken, and it was some time before it occurred 
to one to cut the rope which towed them. 

When he did so she vanished immediately, and 
the red flash of a flintlock gun came out of the 
darkness astern. Ormond ducked beneath the 
coamings, and Benson saw by the light of the 


224 


KING OKIRI 

furnace that his face was crimson when Imrie 
smiled at him. 

“ It may be useful to remember that the range 
of a flintlock gun is forty yards,” said he. 
“ Generally speaking, they’re most dangerous to 
the man behind them, and I dare say that is why 
the Government allows us to sell them to dis- 
affected niggers. We are beyond the reach of 
pursuit now, but I want more steam to over- 
take the canoes.” 


225 


CHAPTEE XVI 
imeie’s nurse 

T he panting of the launch’s engines grew 
louder, but Imrie did not seem satisfied. 

“ More fire one time, Black Prince,” he said. 

“ Them boiler go blow him top off, sah,” said 
the negro ; and Imrie laughed a little. 

“ I don’t think she will,” said he. “ If she 
does, you will go up with her before you have 
time to feel anything hurting you.” 

Black Prince had evidently no desire to make 
such an ascent, but there were few negroes who 
dare loiter over anything Imrie bade them do, 
and the hum of machinery swelled still louder, 
while red fire swept from the funnel and the pace 
increased. Benson became sensible of a strong 
exhilaration, and the Shah sat staring forward 
with fingers tight clenched. 

“ This is life, and an hour of it worth a whole 
year at Bonner’s. I wouldn’t have missed it for 
anything,” said he. 

“ You are easily pleased,” said Imrie. “ Now, 
a sensible man would prefer to be safe in bed. 
Still, enjoy it while you can. You will find the 
charm wear off when you’re no longer young.” 
226 


IMEIE’S NURSE 


“ It was you who brought me, sir,” said Or- 
mond. “Would you have sooner gone to sleep 
at the factory? ” 

Imrie smiled drily. “ Of course I would,” he 
said. “ Only in that case Okiri would have 
stolen nearly six months’ profits from the Com- 
pany. You may as well go forward and help 
those fellows to watch for the canoes.” 

It was an hour or two latef when a paddling 
song came faintly out of the darkness, and Imrie 
ordered the engines to be slowed a little. 

“ The bushmen don’t usually travel at night, 
and those are our men,” he said. “ They’re sing- 
ing to frighten away the river devils and keep 
up their spirits, but we must get close up with 
them before they hear us, or they may run into 
some shallow creek. There is one that would 
suit them round the next bend.” 

The panting of the engine and lap of water 
along the planking became less audible as the 
launch went on, but the singing grew louder, and 
Benson could plainly hear the measured thud of 
paddles. Then the hard-pressed boiler blew off 
with a roar, and the singing ceased altogether, 
while the thud of paddles quickened suddenly. 
There was as yet only a black wall of forest 
visible ahead. 

“ They have heard us,” said Imrie. “ I should 
have remembered the pressure we were carrying, 
and we’ll have to run them down. You know 
227 


THE YOUNG TKADERS 


where the throttle is, Benson. Give her the last 
ounce of steam.” 

The launch seemed to surge forward beneath 
them, lifting her bows. The foam whirled aft in 
long lines, and the black forest rushed back 
towards them, while when the craft slanted over 
to the drag of her helm as she tore round a b^nd, 
two black objects appeared dimly ahead, then a 
third, and presently three more in front of them. 
The thud of paddles had swelled into a sound like 
rapid hammering, and it was evident the canoe 
boys were making desperate efforts to escape. 

“ One lil creek lib for close by. You done give 
her plenty ’team, sah,” cried an excited negro. 

Benson saw that they had reduced the distance 
between themselves and the last canoe consider- 
ably, but he gathered from what the negro had 
said that the fugitives might take refuge in a 
creek close ahead, and held his breath as, with 
engines pounding under a dangerous pressure, 
they came up with her. Imrie pulled over the 
helm, and there was a cry from the paddlers as 
the steamer’s bows came flying towards them. 
Then, just as it appeared that she must go right 
over the canoe, Imrie swung over his helm again, 
and there was a crash as they swept by, leaving 
the terrifled black crew, who had lost half their 
paddles, almost helpless in the native craft. 

“Where them creek lib?” he shouted. 

“ Where two big palm done grow up, sah,” said 
228 



THERE WAS A CRASH AS THEY SWEPT BY 









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IMKIE’S NURSE 


a man who stood up on deck, stretching out 
an arm towards the forest ahead, and Imrie drove 
the launch straight past another craft, while the 
Shah, who, quivering with excitement, could not 
keep silent, patted her deck planks, crying, “ Go 
on ! go on ! ” 

Benson crouched close by him, his eyes fixed 
on the darkness before them, and his lips tight 
set. He fancied he could see black palm tufts 
above the river now, and the leading canoes 
appeared very close to them. He guessed that 
the steamer could not follow them up the branch- 
arched tunnel they were making for, and each one 
carried many pounds’ worth of oil which be- 
longed to the Kopelli factory. Still, the launch, 
tearing through the water, was closing with them 
fast. 

The distance grew shorter and shorter, and 
through the pounding of the engines and hum- 
ming of the screw he could hear the gurgle of 
water and thud of whirling paddles. He could 
also dimly see the rows of shadowy objects swing 
forward with every strenuous stroke, and picture 
the play of splendid muscles, and the swelling of 
gorged veins on black foreheads as the naked 
bodies rose and fell. Then the thud and splash 
and rush of water swelled in a confused din, and 
he could imagine that it was increased by the 
choking and gasping of toiling men. He was 
conscious of a certain admiration and sympathy 
229 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


for them. They were making a gallant race, and 
were very loyal to their master. 

Still, man was given intellect that he might 
have dominion over the forces which uphold the 
universe as well as herb and beast, and no mere 
animal courage backed by straining effort of 
splendid muscle can compete with the white 
man’s intelligence, which holds in subjection 
roaring fire and tireless steel. So once more, 
though massive in body and perfect in limb, the 
savage was beaten, and a yell of triumph went 
up from the Krooboys when the launch shot 
between the first canoe and the opening. The 
splash of paddles ceased altogether, and with a 
great frothing the screw spun hard astern. 

“ It was a close race,” said Imrie. ‘‘We have 
won.” 

There was no resistance. The bushmen knew 
that nine or ten armed men on board a steamer 
were practically invincible, and some leaped 
overboard and no doubt crawled into the forest, 
while the rest, laying down their paddles, waited 
in sullen silence. Imrie, moving the launch to 
and fro, next drove the canoes together, and or- 
dering their occupants into the last one, towed 
the little fieet towards the bank. Then he stopped 
the engines a moment. 

“We have a number of cloth pieces I meant 
to present to Okiri’s people, if they had given 
up the oil,” he said. “ Heave them down, Cor- 
230 


IMEIE’S NUKSE 


nelius, and tell those fellows they may have them. 
They’re a plucky lot, and deserve them.” 

A murmur of wonder followed the speech, for 
the negroes had not seen beaten men treated in 
that fashion before. Then they swam ashore 
with their prizes upon their heads, and the launch 
steamed on down the river with the canoes behind 
her. 

“ Do you think Bonner would have let them 
off like that? ” said the Shah to Benson, who 
laughed a little. 

“ I don’t think he would,” he said. “ But you 
see Imrie is a very different man from Bonner.” 

“ He is,” said the Shah thoughtfully. “ No- 
body with any sense could compare Bonner to 
him. Of course, cash is a very useful thing. 
You soon find that out when you have precious 
little of it, but it begins to strike me that there’s 
a lot more in business than making money.” 

The canoes were still safe behind the launch 
when a triumphant scream of her whistle brought 
the factory boys running to the landing at Ko- 
pelli. Benson felt heavy and drowsy when they 
went ashore, but Imrie appeared as wide awake 
as ever, and in an unusually good humor. 

“ I expect Okiri will be in a very bad temper 
this morning,” said he. “ Get something to eat, 
Benson, because you must take the launch back 
and ask her owners to send on the note I’ll write 
to the Consul.” 


231 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


“ What do you think the Consul will say, sir? ” 
asked Ormond; and Imrie laughed softly. 

The Consul is a wise man, and will not say 
anything, though I fancy he will feel obliged 
to me,” said he. “ Had we sent him a long com- 
plaint he would have had to order Okiri to appear 
at the Consulate, and it might have taken a good 
many troops to bring him if he did not wish to 
come.” 

“ The Consul has plenty of troops,” said Ben- 
son. 

He has,” said Imrie, “ but being a wise man 
he does not wish to use them. It is not altogether 
easy to be a good Protectorate Consul.” 

“ It doesn’t seem very difficult to me, sir,” said 
the Shah. “ The Consul has full authority, and 
when the niggers will not obey him he can make 
them.” 

“At the cost of a good deal of blood and 
money,” said Imrie. “ Anybody could order 
troops to burn and kill, but a Consul who is 
worth anything avoids the necessity. Every now 
and then the bushmen work themselves up into a 
nervous state, as they have been doing lately, and 
a blunder would bring them out with guns. Then 
the Consul has to manage them as a teamster 
manages a valuable horse with a dangerous 
temper. If he beat it savagely it might break out 
of harness altogether, and perhaps kill the man. 
So, never letting the horse fancy, he is afraid of 
232 


IMRIE’S NURSE 


it, he humors it while he keeps a firm grasp on 
the bridle. The result is the horse does its work 
quietly and the man goes home with a whole 
skin.” 

“ The bushmen don’t work like horses,” said 
Ormond. “ It is difficult to get a move out of 
the lazy beggars with a shovel.” 

Imrie smiled drily. “ Still, they keep you and 
me and Benson in food and shelter, as well as 
several steamship lines going, and I don’t know 
how many oil mills and soapworks in England 
busy,” said he. 

Benson returned the launch to her owners at 
a factory nearer the coast, and it was not very 
long before he went down river in haste again. 
Imrie suffered a good deal from fever, and one 
morning when he walked unsteadily towards the 
table where the coffee was set out his appear- 
ance alarmed his assistants. His face was even 
more gaunt and hollow than it had been of late, 
and his eyes were only half open, while when he 
raised his cup the coffee ran over the edge of it. 
Hardly tasting its contents, he looked down on 
the river. 

“ What are those fellows in the canoe doing? 
They seem a long time unloading her, but I can’t 
see them clearly,” he said in a voice that sounded 
hoarse and strained. 

The canoe was close below them, and Benson, 
who could see the big muscles swelling beneath 
233 


THE YOUNG TKADEES 


the negroes’ glossy skins as they flung her cargo 
ashore, wondered. There was no sun to dazzle 
any one’s eyes as yet, and the river flowed past 
oily and dim. 

“ They seem to be working fairly. You have 
not been well, sir, for several weeks, and I think 
Clarke and I could manage the shop to-day if 
you took a rest,” he said. 

“I haven’t been well for several years,” said 
Imrie drily. “ I may take a rest to-morrow, but 
we shall be busy to-day. This has not been a 
profltable half-year, and Clarke would let those 
fellows plunder him.” 

He ate a few mouthfuls, and then walked 
with Benson to the shop. This was an iron shed 
with a counter inside it, and as soon as it was 
opened a swarm of scantily-attired negroes who 
had brought down oil and kernels poured in. 
They shouted and struggled for foremost place 
at the counter, while those who reached it flung 
down the little brass tokens given them for their 
produce all at once, demanding guns, knives, 
umbrellas, old silk hats, brass helmets, looking- 
glasses in tin frames, and similar rubbish, in ex- 
change. They were petty traders, or the slaves 
of bush headmen who allowed them to trade in a 
small way for themselves, and it would not have 
been easy to serve them one by one. 

Each demanded whatever took his fancy, irre- 
spective of the value he was entitled to, and after 
234 


IMRIE’S NURSE 


getting part of what he asked for, not infre- 
quently declared that he had lost his tally. 
Others who had been paid in full, after disputing 
for many minutes over every article, snatched up 
any sundries lying within their reach, and those 
among the rest who had combined their tallies 
fought over the division of the purchases. Fresh 
groups replaced those satisfied at last, laughing, 
jostling, shouting, while as the sun grew hotter 
and the iron walls of the shed more like the sides 
of an oven, the atmosphere within it became 
almost insupportable and the babel deafening. 
Still, Benson, who was half-choked with the foul 
air and dripping with perspiration, ran here and 
there, carrying armfuls of small articles, while 
Imrie, who rested upon the counter heavy-eyed 
and weary, held the clamorous crowd in check 
until it was almost noon. Then Benson stood 
still a moment gasping, and while a negro 
grabbed at the long fiintlock gun he held, Imrie 
called to him. 

“ Don’t give it to that fellow. He has had 
one already,” he said. 

Benson was too slow, for the negro grasped the 
stock of the gun, and Imrie staggered forward to 
assist him to recover it. He stopped, however, 
and stood still, swaying unevenly, then, clutch- 
ing at the counter, went down headlong. There 
was a sudden silence until Benson’s shout rang 
out. 


235 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


“ Prince and Cornelius, bring the boys in and 
clear the shop,” he said. 

Imrie lay still when Benson bent over him, and 
while the Krooboys drove out the negroes Benson 
was glad to see the Shah looking over his 
shoulder. 

“ I am afraid it is a stroke of some kind. We 
must get him into the house at once,” said he. 

Imrie had not recovered consciousness when, 
with the assistance of four Krooboys, they laid 
him upon his bed, and Ormond’s face was anxious 
as he looked at Benson. 

“ He has not been well for some time, and I 
think it’s serious,” he said. “ You must go down 
river and bring up a Government doctor as 
quickly as you can. I wish we could send Clarke, 
but I couldn’t trust him.” 

Benson nodded. 

“ I’ll go now. It may be a week before I’m 
back,” he said. 

“ It can’t be helped,” said Ormond quietly, 
though his face expressed dismay. “ This is a 
horrible responsibility, and I wish I knew what 
to give him. Still, there’s a manual in the medi- 
cine chest, and perhaps it will tell me.” 

It was a responsibility most men who knew 
nothing about doctoring would have shrunk from, 
but the Shah could not, as he told Benson after- 
wards, sit still while his master died. So, while 
Imrie lay breathing faintly, he sat ruffling his 
236 


IMKIE’S NURSE 


hair with one hand until the tufts stood upright 
from the back of his head, puzzling over the com- 
plicated descriptions of sicknesses as well as the 
weights and measures set forth in the book he 
took from the medicine chest. 

“ It isn’t cholera or jaundice,” he said half 
aloud, while his face expressed resolution as well 
as bewilderment. “ Pleurisy doesn’t seem to 
begin that way either, and whatever is the mean- 
ing of laryngitis? Nothing to do with asphyxia. 
That means choking, I think. We’ll see if any- 
thing fits it under syncope. Now, here’s some- 
thing like it — moderate doses of brandy, hot 
bottles, and the undernoted draught as a restora- 
tive. It’s too hot already, but we’ve got the 
brandy, and I wonder whether this V-shaped 
thing means a minim or a dram? It can’t be a 
cube root ; but they didn’t teach me algebra when 
I went to school.” 

He was pouring some powder into the little 
scales while a cluster of curious Kroomen sat 
watching him with wondering admiration from 
the veranda, when to his vast relief Imrie opened 
his eyes and looked at him. 

“ What is that stuff for? Are you going to 
poison me? ” said he. 

“No, sir,” said Ormond, while the blood 
rushed to his forehead from mingled embarrass- 
ment and the satisfaction he could not express. 
“ I’ve been trying to find out what you’re ill of, 
237 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


and now I’ve done it the book says brandy or the 
draught I’m mixing.” 

Imrie’s face was white and drawn, but a smile 
flickered in his half-closed eyes. “If you are 
quite satisfied as to what it is I’ll take the brandy. 
It might be safer,” said he. “ Steady there. 
Does it tell you to give the patient brandy by the 
jugful? ” 

He swallowed a little of the spirit, and smiled 
at the Shah. “ Don’t worry about me, my lad. 
It’s something you can’t cure, but I’ll be better 
to-morrow,” said he. “Where is Benson?” 

“ Gone for a doctor. I sent him at once be- 
cause I thought you would not let me if you came 
round first,” said Ormond naively; and Imrie, 
who turned his head on the pillow, appeared to 
be asleep until by and by a huge Krooboy, who 
looked the picture of animal strength, slipped 
softly in. Most negroes have an absurd fondness 
for medicine of any kind, and the man looked at 
Ormond’s mixture longingly. 

“ I done feel sick too much. You give me them 
stuff Gappy Imrie not done take, sah. I got them 
same thing,” said he. 

Ormond hesitated, and, turning, saw Imrie’s 
eyes fixed on him with a faint twinkle in them. 
“ It would be a pity to waste the stuff, and I 
don’t think it will kill him. You could hardly 
poison a Krooboy with prussic acid,” said he. 

Ormond gave the man the mixture, and felt 
238 


IMEIE’S NUESE 


vastly relieved, because it struck him that his 
master could not be dangerously ill or he would 
not have bantered him. He did not know that 
Imrie, who had seen the anxiety in his face, had, 
regardless of his own suffering, made a strenu- 
ous effort to comfort him. 

He was a little better next day, but could not 
get up, while the Krooboy who came for more 
medicine informed the mixer of it that it had 
done him a vast amount of good. The Shah, 
whose vanity was tickled, mixed him a stronger 
draught, and when he came back in the evening 
several of his comrades accompanied him. They 
also desired medicine, and Ormond gave it them. 
Next morning, however, his satisfaction w'as 
rudely dispersed, for half the dusky laborers were 
crouching in the veranda suffering, so they said, 
from agonies in their interiors. 

“ You can’t all be sick. You don’t look it, 
anyway,” he said, surveying them disgustedly. 
“ What’s wrong with you. Snowdrop? ” 

“ I think I done drink one lil snake in some 
water, and he lib for grow big inside me, sah,” 
said the Krooboy unblushingly ; and the Shah, 
who mastered his mortification, turned over the 
book, and then setting two little brass weights 
swinging in the scales, watched them solemnly 
until they stopped. 

“ Now I know what will cure you all. Go 
down to the river and wash yourselves,” he said. 
239 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ Them snake he not like soap. Suppose you eat 
one little piece he lib for come up.” 

The Krooboys shuffled crestfallen out of the 
veranda, and Ormond, who looked after them, 
grinning, turned at the sound of a hollow laugh 
from the bed. He saw that Imrie had lifted him- 
self and was leaning with his back against the 
wall. 

“ You are not quite so foolish as you some- 
times look. I fancied they were going to take 
you in and empty the drug bottles,” he said. 

“ I thought you were too ill to notice,” said 
the Shah sheepishly. “ I am very glad to see you 
better.” 

Imrie smiled upon him curiously. “ I was 
able to notice that you sat here two whole nights 
and days, my lad,” said he. “ I am better, and 
one of the boys can look after me to-day. Go 
away, and sleep for twelve hours, if you can.” 

Ormond made no protestations, and Imrie 
offered no further thanks, but words are not 
always necessary, and the worn-out lad was satis- 
fied as he walked wearily to his couch. 


240 


CHAPTER XVII 

IMRIE^S LAST JOURNEY 

B enson had not so far to travel in search of 
the Consulate doctor as he expected, be- 
cause he met a small steamer flying the white 
ensign before he had paddled two whole days 
down-stream. He told the officer on board her 
what had brought him, and while he talked a 
second white man, who crawled out of the little 
cabin, listened attentively. 

“ Go straight to Kopelli, Thurstan. I’ll spare 
the niggers a little longer, and see to Imrie first,” 
he said. “You can go below and rest, my lad. 
Take Lieutenant Thurstan’s berth. It’s the one 
with curtains. I can’t recommend my own be- 
cause I’ve been sleeping with my boots on.” 

Benson was somewhat astonished, because the 
speaker in no way resembled any physician he 
had seen in England. He wore a battered hat 
two feet across the brim, and a very old tunic 
with only half the proper number of buttons at- 
tached to it, while the state of his other garments 
suggested that he had traveled a long way in 
them through thorny forests. His face was 
241 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


shrewd and bronzed, and nobody who did not 
know him would have supposed that his eyes, 
which twinkled whimsically, had steadfastly 
looked on many a horror. Soon after Benson 
went below Lieutenant Thurstan entered the 
cabin and opened a cupboard. 

“ If you want anything to eat, help yourself, 
and I really think you would be more comfortable 
in my berth. It is that one,” said he. 

“ Thank you,” said Benson. “ Who is the gen- 
tleman on deck? He spoke as though he was one 
of your doctors.” 

Lieutenant Thurstan laughed. “ He is Pat 
Carolan,” said he. 

Benson’s face was a picture of astonishment. 
The name of Patrick Carolan was famous in that 
country, and Benson had heard of the man who 
had several times alone, and in face of the oppo- 
sition of its headman and his Ju-Ju magicians, 
stamped out the pestilence that was emptying a 
native town. He had also heard how, when a 
bush tribe burned a station, Carolan and one 
other white man had held the hospital all night 
with the repeating rifle. 

“ Does he always sleep with his boots on? ” 
said Benson. 

“ He does when he is too tired to take them 
off,” said Thurstan, smiling. “An outbreak of 
sickness has given him little time to sleep at all 
lately.” 


242 


IMRIE’S LAST JOURNEY 


Thurstan went up on deck again, and Benson, 
who reflected that it is very difllcult to recognize 
a hero by outward appearances, went to sleep. 
It was dark when he awakened, and before morn- 
ing the steamer was made fast to the landing at 
Kopelli. Ormond met him on the stairway when 
they went ashore, and Benson felt easier when 
he saw his face. 

“ Imrie’s a little better, but I’m still anxious 
about him,” said the Shah. “ Have you brought 
the doctor? ” 

“ I have,” said Benson. “ This is Doctor Pat- 
rick Carolan.” 

The Shah’s face expressed bewilderment as 
well as satisfaction. ‘‘If anybody else had told 
me I wouldn’t have believed him,” said he. 

Benson did not think Imrie much better when 
he saw him lying partly dressed in a long canvas 
chair. His face was very white and drawn, and 
he lay huddled together; but Carolan said pres- 
ently that he was on the way to recovery. Ben- 
son was kept occupied all day because there was 
a good deal of work no one had been able to 
attend to, but wakened soon after he had retired 
to rest and heard Carolan speaking in the adjoin- 
ing room. He was too drov^sy to notice what the 
doctor said at flrst, though the partition was 
thin, but by degrees the words grew plainer and 
he could not avoid hearing. 

“ You have got over this attack, and the lad 
243 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


must have looked after you well, though there 
are one or two things about it which puzzle me,” 
said Carolan. “ There are folks in the bush who 
are not fond of you. I suppose you can trust the 
boy who does your cooking? ” 

“ I got him from Liberia, and that is too far 
off for him to be likely to make friends with the 
bushmen,” said Imrie. “ Of course, I know what 
you are thinking.” 

Benson, who fancied he also did so, shivered 
a little, because it was not pleasant to hear there 
was a possibility of being poisoned in their own 
factory. 

“ You know him better than I do,” said 
Carolan. 

“ I told you what knocked you over ; but I don’t 
quite see why it should happen. Well, we’ll let 
it pass. You’re in a pretty low way, and there’s 
only one thing will set you up. That’s twelve 
months spent out of the African climate.” 

“ You’ll have to recommend something else,” 
said Imrie; and Carolan appeared to lose his 
temper. 

“ I have no patience with you,” said he. 
“ You’re entitled to the holiday under your ar- 
rangement with the Company. Take your pas- 
sage home by the first steamer.” 

“What will happen if I don’t?” said Imrie; 
and Benson could hear Carolan thrust his chair 
back angrily. 


244 


IMRIE’S LAST JOURNEY 

“ Am I the mouthpiece of Providence, you 
obstinate man? ” said he. “ Still, if they asked 
a report of me you would not get any good com- 
pany to give you an insurance policy.” 

Benson understood Imrie was being warned 
that if he stayed any longer his life might pay 
the forfeit, and was surprised to hear him laugh 
softly. 

“ That is tolerably plain ; but I can’t go now,” 
said he. 

“ And why not? ” asked Carolan. “ What has 
the Company done for you? They’re not liberal 
with their salaries.” 

“ They did a good deal,” said Imrie. “ It is 
not a big company, and the man who has the 
most money in it believed in my honesty when I 
was nearly starving and very few would have 
trusted me. I was turned out of the old Amalga- 
mation after the big exposure, you see.” 

Carolan appeared to be astonished, by the 
sound he made, and Benson remembered having 
heard about the exposure of a systematic robbery 
which had sent several agents to jail. 

“ You were in that? ” said Carolan. 

“ I was,” said Imrie quietly. “ I got none of 
the plunder, and did not know what was going 
on ; but nobody except the man I now serve would 
believe me. It is a good while since, but I have a 
tolerable memory, and fancy that during the next 
few months the Company will want me.” 

245 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ Faith, I believe they may,” said Carolan. 
“ Our chiefs at Calabar are a bit overconfident, 
I’m thinking. You mean ” 

“ That we are going to have a big row with the 
niggers presently,” said Imrie. “ Now, because 
I know the bushmen, and most of them know me, 
I’ve a notion that I can get our debts in and keep 
the factory standing.” 

“ There are few white men in this country who 
could do it if the niggers came down,” said Caro- 
lan. “ Well, I’ve done my duty by speaking 
plainly, and none of us would stay out here if 
he worried very much about his health.” 

Meanwhile Benson had been wondering what 
he ought to do. He coughed once or twice, and 
made the bedstead rattle to warn the speakers 
he was awake, but neither appeared to notice, 
and he decided that he could only keep what he 
had heard to himself. He w’as impressed by Im- 
rie’s decision to stay on at the factory though the 
doctor had warned him that this might mean his 
death. 

Presently Carolan spoke again. 

“ You think the bushmen will turn out soon? ” 
he said. 

“ Sooner or later,” said Imrie. “ Okiri has 
been offering the Frenchmen big prices for pow- 
der. Doesn’t the Consul think it worth while to 
stop its coming in? ” 

“ The Consul does not tell people his opin- 
246 


IMEIE’S LAST JOUENEY 


ions,” said Carolan drily. “ Why did not Okiri 
buy it here?” 

“ I wouldn’t sell,” said Imrie. “ One of the 
things which is keeping the bushmen quiet is the 
shortage of powder. You’ll hear of fighting as 
soon as they get it.” 

Benson grew too drowsy to hear anything 
further, and was almost asleep when Carolan 
came softly into his room. 

“ How long have you been awake? ” said he. 

“ About an hour, I think,” said Benson ; and 
the doctor looked at him steadily. 

“ I knew you were awake the half of it, as my 
hearing is uncommonly good,” said he. “You 
heard what your master said to me, and will be 
for clearing out of the factory? ” 

“ I did,” said Benson simply, “ but I mean to 
stay at Kopelli.” 

Carolan nodded as though with approval. 
“ Then you have had an example, and you need 
not tell anybody,” he said, and went out silently. 

When Benson got up later than usual next 
morning he found Carolan frowning at the Shah, 
who stood sheepishly before him . “ Do you know 
what is done to folks who poison people without 
having a diploma? ” he asked sternly. 

“ I don’t, sir,” said the Shah. “ But I only 
gave them the mixture Mr. Imrie wouldn’t take, 
and I weighed the drugs exactly as the book said. 
There’s a little left in the bottle.” 

247 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


“ He had good sense,” said Carolan. “ That’s 
one crime he prevented you from committing. 
You have some of the stuff in the bottle? Show 
me.” 

The Shah produced the book and the mixture, 
and waited anxiously, while Benson looked as 
solemn as he could and Carolan smelled and 
tasted the fluid. Then, to the surprise of both, 
the doctor laughed a little. 

“ I have seen a country chemist make a worse 
shot,” said he. “ Keep clear of the bottles next 
time, and stick to the nursing. You took care of 
your master well. What were you about to say, 
you rascal? ” 

“ I suppose when you have a diploma you can 
poison anybody you like,” said the Shah inno- 
cently, who had promptly recovered his usual 
self-confidence. 

Carolan’s eyes twinkled, and, lifting a heavy 
hand, he brought it down upon the speaker’s 
shoulder. “ ’Tis a disrespectful generation. Away 
with you, while your skin’s whole,” said he. 

Ormond grinned broadly as he walked with 
Benson down the stairway. “ That’s the funniest 
kind of doctor I ever saw, and he’s famous all 
over this country,” said he. “ It’s more difficult 
to tell a great man when you see him than I used 
to think.” 

Carolan left Kopelli that aftertioon, and Imrie 
partly recovered in a week or two, while the work 
248 


IMEIE’S LAST JOURNEY 


went on as usual. Oil came down river, salt and 
cloth were sent away, while Benson heard noth- 
ing further of approaching hostilities. So an- 
other few months slipped quietly by, until one 
morning Imrie, who had not regained his usual 
strength, bade Benson order the negroes to launch 
the traveling canoe. 

“ I am going up river for a fortnight, and can’t 
take you with me,” said he. “ It will be a diffi- 
cult journey, but there are several important 
headmen I must see.” 

“ I would like to come, sir,” said Benson ; and 
Imrie appeared to consider for a few moments 
before he answered. 

“ I would like to take you, but can’t do it, 
my lad. You will be safer where you are,” he 
said. 

Benson thought his master did not look fit for 
a difficult, and possibly dangerous, journey, but 
knew there was no use in saying so, and in an 
hour or two Imrie went away. 

“ I wish he was not going,” said the Shah as 
they looked after the canoe. “ He is not well, 
and I know by the way he answered you he has 
awkward work to do.” 

It was a very hot fortnight. Even the factory 
boys seemed to suffer from the temperature, 
while Benson and the Shah dragged themselves 
about, gasping, all day, and lay tossing in tor- 
ment most of the night. The iron walls of the 
249 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


store shed were too hot to touch, while the Shah, 
who said the factory was like a furnace, several 
times broke down at his task and lay still, strug- 
gling against a sense of suffocation. 

The last day was even hotter than the rest, 
and when dinner was over Benson and his com- 
panion, who had scarcely eaten a mouthful, sat 
with aching heads and fevered blood on the 
veranda. The heat was almost unbearable, and 
a thin, white mist, which arose from the river, 
drifted through the veranda warm like steam. 
The cottonwoods towered above it in a dim, 
unbroken mass, a little blacker than the darkness 
behind them. Benson was, fortunately for him- 
self, soaked in perspiration ; but Ormond panted 
now and then because the moisture failed to 
break through his burning skin. 

“ I feel as I did the night we came here, and if 
there isn’t a change soon I think I shall go mad. 
My head is nearly bursting now,” be said. 

“ It is hard to bear,” said Benson, whose own 
temples throbbed painfully. “ What wouldn’t 
one give to be back in England, if only for an 
hour! Can you remember the spring night we 
rowed down the Dee from the Iron Bridge, Per- 
sia, or the sea-breeze the first time we sailed down 
the Mersey? ” 

“ Don’t make it worse,” said Ormond. “ I 
don’t wish to remember. What’s the use of 
thinking of it when we’re choking here? But 
250 


IMKIE’S LAST JOUENEY 


however bad it is for us, it must have been worse 
for Imrie. I’m getting anxious about him, and 
wish he would come.” 

Benson nodded. He had during the last week 
often thought of the sick trader disputing with 
cunning headmen in the foul heat of suffocating 
huts, or sitting hour after hour cramped and 
aching in the canoe. He also knew that Imrie 
must have spent several nights on a bed of oozy 
soil, while the damp soaked his wrappings 
through. 

“ There are not many white men who could 
travel at this temperature. Even the niggers 
can’t bring their oil down, and they’re used to it. 
I have been anxious about him all the week,” 
he said. 

Neither of them said anything further for an 
hour at least, and then Benson, rising suddenly, 
walked to the head of the stairway. 

“ I thought I heard something. There it is 
again,” he said. 

Ormond leaned forward in his chair listening 
intently, and then also rose, for a faint thudding 
sound came out of the silence. “ The canoe at 
last ! ” he said. 

For some reason Benson felt more anxious 
than he had done already. The canoe seemed to 
be approaching very slowly, and when he walked 
to the landing it was still far away. 

“ They’re not half paddling,” said Ormond. 
251 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


“ Why can’t they be quick? I’m afraid of some- 
thing, Hilford, and don’t know what it is.” 

“ Then don’t talk,” said Benson sharply. 
“ Walk up and down until you get over it. We 
may want all our senses when Imrie comes.” 

The Shah, saying nothing further, paced up 
and down the bank, while the slow splash of 
paddles drew nearer and nearer, until at last a 
long, dim object stole out of the mist. Then he 
shouted, “ Kopelli canoe lib. Are you all right, 
Mr. Imrie? ” 

There was no answer for a moment or two, 
and Benson held his breath until a negro’s voice 
rose up, “ Canoe lib. Gappy Imrie sick too 
much.” 

Benson felt almost sick himself for a few sec- 
onds as he saw his forebodings realized. Then 
he raised his shoulders as though he would shake 
a load of vague apprehensions from him, and 
turned to the Shah, who stopped close by. 

“ We have got to look confident, whatever we 
feel,” said he. “ Pull yourself together, Persia.” 

It was well he had prepared himself, for when 
the canoe ran against the bank, and a negro 
raised a lantern, the Shah choked a cry, and 
Benson set his lips tight as he looked down into 
her. Imrie lay upon some matting, and the dick- 
ering light of the lantern showed a sign there was 
no mistaking upon his face. It was still and 
gray, with deep hollows in it, and at first the eyes 
252 


IMEIE’S LAST JOURNEY 


were closed. Benson shivered, and then with an 
effort stepped down on board the canoe. As he 
did so, he caught the glitter of naked steel, and 
saw that some of the canoe boys had matchets 
slung about them. Then the Shah touched him, 
and his voice sounded strangely hollow as he 
said, “ Is he dead? ” 

Imrie, who seemed to hear him, slowly turned 
his head, and Benson was sensible of a great 
relief, which, however, vanished suddenly. 

“ Not quite,” said the sick man. “ Still, I 
think I have made my last journey.” 

Four stalwart Krooboys lifted him, and as 
they moved towards the factory Benson was 
thankful that the one who carried the lantern 
lagged behind. He did not wish the Shah or 
anyone to see his face. Soon after they had laid 
down their master, Ormond drew his comrade 
out upon the veranda, and Benson realized that 
the Shah would prove equal to the emergency. 

“ You and I will have to do everything, and 
I’m glad Carolan left medicine and written direc- 
tions. He is somewhere up river, and we might 
not find him for weeks,” he said. 


253 


CHAPTEE XVIII 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 

T WO weeks had passed when Benson stood 
once more staring impatiently into the dark- 
ness from the veranda of the Kopelli factory. He 
was listening for the beat of engines, as he had 
done all day, for a negro had brought him word 
that Carolan was coming at last, and he could 
no longer hide from himself the fact that Imrie 
lay dying in the stifling room behind him. It 
was raining gently, for the tropics, and the 
steady splashing of heavy drops on the iron 
nearly maddened him. It confused his hearing, 
and he was straining all his nervous force to 
listen. 

At last he moved back, with the moisture 
glistening on his garments, into the lamplight, 
and strove to conceal his disappointment from 
his comrade, who came softly towards him. The 
Shah, who had watched his master night and day, 
looked worn out, and feverish anxiety shone in 
his eyes. 

“ Is there nothing yet? ” he said. 

“ Nothing at all,” said Benson quietly. “ Still 
he will be here to-night or to-morrow. He said 
254 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 


he would come, and Carolan is not the man to 
break his promise.” 

“ To-morrow ! ” said Ormond huskily. “ To- 
morrow will be too late. He is sinking fast, Hil- 
ford, and we can do nothing. Nothing whatever, 
since he can’t take the stuff Carolan made for 
him. Go back and listen again.” 

Benson went out, and stood on the corner of 
the veranda farthest up river for almost an hour, 
feeling he would give anything he possessed to 
hear the long-expected sound of engines; but 
there was only the gurgle of the river and the 
soft splashing of the rain. He did not know 
whether Carolan could save the sick man if he 
came, and scarcely thought he could; but there 
was a faint hope, and it seemed terrible that 
Imrie should lose it through a few hours’ delay. 
Benson had also nobody but his comrade to con- 
fide in, because Clarke, who might have been of 
service, was away from the factory. He found 
he could stand still no longer, and was striding 
up and down the veranda when the Shah ap- 
peared at the open window. 

“ Nothing yet? ” he said hoarsely, and read 
the answer in Benson’s hopeless face. “ Then 
you had better come in. I think it is too late 
now.” 

Benson went in softly and walked towards the 
couch where Imrie lay. The sick man’s eyes were 
open, and though he had been delirious most of 
255 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 


the time, Benson could see that he was sensible. 
“ Don’t worry about the doctor. A score of 
them could not do me any good,” he said, in a 
strained and hollow voice. “ Sit down, you and 
Persia, where I can see you. I want to talk to 
you.” 

“ You must keep quiet, sir, and rest,” said 
Ormond. “ Talking will make you worse.” 

A feeble flicker of a smile shone on Imrie’s 
face. 

“ You talk a good deal more like a doctor than 
Carolan does, my lad,” he said. “ It will make 
no great difference. I shall rest for good to- 
morrow. Are you afraid to stay alone for a few 
weeks in the factory? ” 

“ No, sir,” said Benson, who felt as though 
something were choking him ; “ and we shall have 
Clarke.” 

“ I don’t think you will,” said Imrie. “ You 
might also be better without him. I don’t know 
whether I told you, for my mind has not been 
clear, but the bushmen are coming at last.” 

He stopped, and by the fixed look in his eyes 
seemed striving to remember something, while 
his utterance was indistinct when he spoke again. 

“ They may not come for a little, and you will 
have assistance from the coast by then,” he said. 
“ I told you to send for it some days ago. The 
niggers would plunder a deserted factory, you 
know.” 


256 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 


Benson had opened his lips to say that Imrie 
had not told them, when the Shah trod upon his 
toe, and he answered quietly, “ The factory will 
not be deserted. We shall be here.” 

^ I know,” said Imrie. “ Of course you will. 
I told you to send for a new agent, and he will 
be here presently. I have a good deal more to 
tell you, but my mind is hazy, and it seems slip- 
ping away.” 

He lay still for several minutes, and the Shah’s 
eyes glistened suspiciously as he watched him. 
Imrie was evidently struggling to force his fail- 
ing brain to resume its work, and his ghastly 
face expressed the agony of the attempt at con- 
centration. Benson also understood that now, 
when his reason was losing its sway, the dying 
trader was from sheer force of habit still bent 
on serving his employers faithfully. 

“Now I have it,” he said. “ Don’t sell Okiri 
or anyone but the friendly headman an ounce of 
powder. Okiri is only waiting for ammunition 
to join the hostile bushmen. They’re all short 
of powder, and doing everything they can to get 
it quietly. Don’t put any confidence in Clarke. 
You are white men, and I leave you responsible 
for the factory. I had something else to tell 
you, but I can’t remember.” 

Again there was a heavy silence, intensified by 
the monotonous patter of the rain, and Benson, 
who was worn out by want of sleep and anxiety, 
257 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


felt that the strange stillness was almost unen- 
durable. He could not remember how long he 
sat motionless before Imrie spoke again. Then 
he realized that the sick man’s mind was going. 

“ I’m waiting for Thornton,” he said. “ Why 
doesn’t he come? It’s time we went up to 
frighten that rogue of a headman. He dare play 
no trick on Thornton or me. It was we who 
seized the fetich ivory, and there were no troops 
or consuls to send for then.” 

“ There isn’t any Thornton here,” said Or- 
mond, before Benson could stop him; and a 
puzzled expression crept into Imrie’s face for a 
moment or two. 

“ Of course ! ” he said very feebly. “ I remem- 
ber now. Thornton’s dead. The bushmen pois- 
oned him, and I am dying, too. I burned their 
village ; but why are you looking at me with those 
big eyes yonder? Go away. I don’t know you.” 

The Shah appeared to gulp down something 
in his throat. 

“The poor fellow’s wandering, but I wish he 
hadn’t said that,” he said huskily. 

“ Go away,” said Imrie, turning his head a 
little, while a light crept into his eyes. “ You 
have to hold the factory, and no nigger must lay 
a finger on the Company’s property. Tell them 
you belong to Imrie of Kopelli, and there’s not 
one of them will meddle with you.” 

He rambled disconnectedly for several min- 

258 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 


utes, and then sank into a stupor which lasted a 
time. When at last he opened his eyes Benson 
could see that he was sane, and he moved his 
fingers as though he would draw them nearer. 

“ I thought I was back in England. You are 
good lads. Take care of the factory,” he said 
very softly, and then closed his eyes again. 

That was Imrie’s last speech, for though he 
muttered once or twice, he said nothing clearly, 
and at last sank into sleep. The sleep was a 
very long one, for Imrie never opened his eyes in 
this world again; but for a time his assistants 
sat motionless as statues watching him, while the 
water gurgled on the iron roof and the Shah’s 
metal watch ticked noisily. A lamp hung from 
the rafters above them, but it seemed to Benson 
that it burned dimly, and the shadows grew 
deeper about the bed. He trembled a little as 
he felt the presence of the dark angel stooping 
with shadowy pinions lower and lower above the 
sleeping man. At last he rose, shivering, and 
bent over the bed; then stood up very wearily, 
and choked down something that hampered his 
breathing. 

“ He has gone,” he said, and the Shah broke 
into a short, dry sob. 

Then they went out solemnly into the veranda, 
for all that was left of Agent Imrie was a frail 
and worn-out shell, unfit longer to imprison the 
loyal soul which had gone to join the great com- 
259 


THE YOUNG TKADEES 


pany of those who have suffered patiently and 
done their work well. 

An hour later the thumping of engines came 
out of the rain, and Benson said gravely, It is 
Carolan coming.” 

“ He is of no use now,” said Ormond, who 
coughed once or twice for no apparent reason. 
“ But what is he stopping the steamer for? ” 

The thumping of engines ceased, and suddenly 
an intense blue glare beat out through the rain. 
It showed a little white-painted steamer drifting 
with the stream, and a white man on board her 
holding up a signal-flare. The light shone into 
the veranda, and the Shah’s face showed 
blanched and ghastly under its intensity. 

“ Are you all right at the factory? ” a cry 
reached them; and when Benson shouted the 
light went out, and the sound of engines com- 
menced again. 

In a few more minutes Carolan came dripping 
up the stairway, and Benson understood why 
he had burned the light when he said, “ I should 
have been here earlier, but we had no troops on 
board, and heard the bushmen had blockaded one 
creek. We had to go a long way round to avoid 
them. But how is Imrie? ” 

He must have read the answer in Benson’s 
face, for, asking no further questions, he went 
softly into the factory. He came out in another 
minute, and drew Benson into the lamplight near 
26 Q 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 

the window. ‘‘ You can tell me to-morrow. Go 
down and sleep on board the launch. You want 
rest, both of you, and will be more comfortable 
there,” he said. 

Benson was about to say something, but Caro- 
lan, taking him by the shoulder, thrust him 
gently towards the stairway. 

“ Do what you are told and ask no questions,” 
said he. 

It was late when Benson opened his eyes, and 
going out on deck he uncovered his head. It was 
a bright morning, and the bayonet of an ebony 
soldier who stood motionless near the stern glit- 
tered in the light. He was guarding a rigid 
object which lay wrapped in the white ensign at 
his feet. 

The spotless folds of the flag shone with 
a snowy luster, but the bright St. George’s cross 
was flung in a band of warm crimson upon the 
dead man’s breast. Then Benson saw Carolan 
on the veranda, and, calling to Ormond, went to 
meet him. 

Carolan, who seemed able to read unspoken 
thoughts, answered the question they had not 
time to ask. 

“ I am taking him down the river. The mis- 
sionaries will bury him, and he shall have troops 
to carry him if Hyslop is there,” he said. “ Your 
master was once a powerful man in this country, 
and did the Government good service in times 
261 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 

when it was more dangerous for white men than 
it is now.” 

“ Who was Thornton? ” asked the Shah, when 
he had given the doctor a brief account of Imrie’s 
illness. 

“ A man who held one of the first factories 
built up here with Imrie,” said Carolan. “ He 
was poisoned by the bushmen. So your master 
spoke of him. Did he tell you that he and one 
other trader took the bush headman prisoner and 
brought him to the coast after burning his vil- 
lage to the ground? ” 

“ No, sir,” said Benson ; and Carolan nodded. 

“ He naturally would not, but he did a good 
many more daring things, and that is per- 
haps why he is lying there under the ensign 
now.” 

“ How could that be? ” said Ormond. “ He 
had fever, hadn’t he? ” 

“ You are not so confident in this case? ” said 
Carolan drily. “ Imrie had something worse 
than fever, but what he suffered from in addition 
to it does not concern you now. Get your things 
ready to come down the river with me.” 

“ We cannot,” said Benson. We are staying 
to take care of the factory.” 

“ You must,” said Carolan. “ The bushmen 
will be here in a week or two. The Frenchmen 
have left the next factory already, and I don’t 
expect there will be a friendly native who can 
262 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 


get away in this part of the country to-morrow. 
Don’t keep me waiting.” 

Benson glanced at Ormond, who nodded. 
“We need not keep you waiting. We are not 
going at all,” said he. 

“ Don’t talk rubbish ! ” said Carolan impa- 
tiently. “ Suppose several hundred savages 
swarmed about the factory with guns and 
matchets, what could you two lads do? ” 

“ They may not come for some time, and if you 
will tell our head agent or the Consul they could 
send us up some soldiers,” said Benson. “ I prom- 
ised Imrie to stay here, and I’m going to stay.” 

Carolan looked at him sharply. “ I’ll call the 
boys to take you on board the launch in a minute. 
Didn’t I tell you that your neighbors have 
gone? ” said he. 

The Shah’s face flushed angrily. “ We’re not 
Frenchmen or Dutchmen, and I’ll struggle as 
long as I’m able,” said he. “ Then I’ll protest 
to the Consul ; but you know you can’t take me 
unless I’m willing.” 

“ Are you equally foolish? ” said Carolan, 
looking at Benson, who answered stolidly : 

“ I don’t wish to be ungrateful, but a surgeon 
has no authority, and I’m not going.” 

“ Don’t be rash,” said Carolan. “ I’ll give you 
five minutes to consider in. Nobody will blame 
you if you come down with me, but if you stay 
up here I can’t answer for what may happen to 
263 


THE YOUNG TEADERS 


you. The way down the river may be closed in 
a day or two.” 

Benson once more glanced at Ormond, and 
then set his lips tight as he turned his eyes so 
that he could not see the river. It promised a 
smooth road to safety and the fellowship of 
white men on the coast, and, recollecting the hor- 
rible stories he had heard from the factory boys, 
he felt his resolution melting away. He knew 
that Carolan had not exaggerated, and had it 
not been for Imrie’s example, it is possible his 
hesitation would not have lasted long, for a fierce 
desire to escape grew stronger within him. Caro- 
lan watched him and his comrade keenly while 
two minutes went by, and then the Shah broke in. 

“ I can’t bear any more of this,” he said 
hoarsely. “ Tell him to go away. We won’t 
come.” 

“ It is no use waiting, sir,” said Benson. 

There was a swift change in the doctor’s 
manner, and he laid his hand on the speaker’s 
shoulder. 

“ You haven’t lived with Imrie without learn- 
ing something, my lads,” said he. “ Stay if you 
wish, for should you feel as I think you do, I 
dare not tempt you further. At the last moment 
you might slip down the river at night in a canoe, 
and should the Consul send troops up they would 
probably go this way, while it is quite possible 
264 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 


the bushmen may descend another river. You 
are a plucky pair. Good luck to you ! ” 

He shook hands with them, and the two stood 
bareheaded on the veranda while the steamer 
which carried Imrie down river slid away. They 
watched her until the cottonwoods hid her from 
their sight, and then a full understanding of 
what they had undertaken came upon them. The 
steamer had gone, and except for a few savages 
they were left alone to face the horrors of a 
native uprising. 

“ It is done now,” said Ormond a trifle husk- 
ily, There is no use in wondering whether we 
were fools or not. You promised Imrie, and we 
must make the best of it. I wonder what it feels 
like to be cut in slices with a matchet.” 

“ If I couldn’t find anything more cheerful 
than that to talk about I should be quiet,” said 
Benson. 


265 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE headman’s POWDEE 

W HEN the launch had vanished Benson sat 
down in the factory office and endeavored 
to occupy himself in some accounts. They were 
not important, but prevented him from brooding 
over the situation. This was not a pleasant one, 
and he realized that it might become a good deal 
more uncomfortable, but fortunately he did not 
know that Carolan would be sent away to look 
after a detachment of sick troops before he saw 
the Consul. As it happened, the Company’s head 
agent lay helpless with fever, and in the haste 
of collecting stores and troops nobody thought 
anything about the few lonely men at Kopelli. 
Clarke, however, presently returned from a visit 
to some native traders, and his report was forth- 
coming. 

I saw no commotion in any of the villages, 
and don’t think we need be afraid,” he said. 
“ These stupid niggers are generally talking 
about a war, but very seldom do anything, and I 
think the Government officers are absurdly anx- 
ious. Even supposing the bushmen came down, 
they are not likely to attack us.” 

266 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 


It was evident that Clarke was not afraid, but 
something in his manner puzzled his companions. 
He spoke to them as though they were his serv- 
ants, and gave the Shah orders which were not 
obeyed, while Benson could see that before long 
they would have to make him understand that 
he was not in charge of the factory. He was won- 
dering how it could best be done one morning, 
when Ormond called him into the little office. 

“ Clarke was away again all last night, and 
I’m getting suspicious about the beast,” he said. 

“ How do you know he was? He went to bed 
as usual,” said Benson; and the Shah smiled 
knowingly. 

“ He didn’t stay there. I got up to see ; and 
several of the boys have gone somewhere, too, 
while as he didn’t go out for pleasure he must 
have gone to meet somebody,” said he. “Now 
glance at these entries. Imrie said nothing about 
not selling this one headman a little powder, but 
you know how quiet and friendly the old fellow 
is, and what can he want such a lot of it for? ” 
Benson looked thoughtful. “ I have been won- 
dering about it, too,” he said. “ That man is as 
likely to join the bushmen as we are, and always 
used to come for the powder himself. Do you 
think Clarke could have sold it to anybody else? ” 
“ I think the bushmen would give any price for 
powder since they are short of it, and a cunning 
rascal could make a big profit for himself,” said 
267 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


the Shah. “ I know that while Clarke debited 
the powder to that headman it was not his boys 
who came for it.” 

Benson slowly clenched his fist. “ He shall 
not have another keg. I’ll fiing them into the 
river first,” he said. “ We may as well have it 
out with Clarke now as later. Where is he? ” 

“ That is more than I know,” said the Shah, 
smiling significantly. “ Most likely somewhere 
he ought not to be. He hasn’t come back yet.” 

Clarke did not come back for several days, 
and then returned alone, though he had set out 
with several factory boys. As it happened, Ben- 
son was busy by himself in the oil shed when, 
soon after landing, the bookkeeper came in to 
look for him. 

“ I have been away up the river and done a 
good stroke of business,” he said. “ Our friend, 
the headman, has bought up all our powder at 
good prices. Give me the keys so I can see how 
many kegs we have left in the shed.” 

“ Where are the boys you took up? ” asked 
Benson; and Clarke did not answer immedi- 
ately. 

“ I left them with the headman to bring some 
oil down. He was afraid to send his own men,” 
the bookkeei)er said presently. 

A swift suspicion fiashed upon Benson, who 
had watched his face. Slavery is not recognized 
in that country, but the bush headmen in the 
268 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 


more accessible districts usually catch their serv- 
ants, and the factory boys would be worth a good 
deal to some of them. As he thought of this 
Benson grew hot with indignation. 

“ Should the boys not come back shortly I shall 
send word to the Consul,” he said. “ When the 
headman’s boys come down for the powder, send 
them to me. I will not give you the key.” 

Clarke, who smiled wickedly, threw off all dis- 
guise, and walked towards Benson in a manner 
which reminded the latter of a cat about to 
spring. He was a big, powerful man, and prob- 
ably a match for two Europeans in physical 
strength, especially if they had lived any time 
in that unhealthful country. 

“ Give me the keys, you young fool,” he said. 

“ I will not,” said Benson, while the color 
faded from his face. “ Imrie left me in charge 
of Kopelli, and you shall not sell the hostile nig- 
gers another keg of powder. Don’t come any 
nearer.” 

The negro stopped, but there was malice in his 
face, and, warned by its expression, Benson, 
moving a step or two backwards, stooped and 
swiftly picked up a shovel. Then Clarke laughed 
harshly, and dropped his dusky fingers upon the 
haft of a long knife in his belt. If he had ex- 
pected that the sight of its half-drawn blade 
would have prevented further resistance he was 
mistaken. 


269 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


“ Keep clear,” said Benson, lifting his shovel. 

Now Clarke was still a savage at bottom, and 
there was a cruel glitter in his eyes as he moved 
another pace, drawing himself together as for a 
spring. 

“ Give me the keys,” he said again ; and his 
voice reminded Benson of the snarl of a beast. 

Benson stood upright, facing him with both 
hands on the shaft of the shovel. Weakened as 
he had been by the climate, he looked curiously 
frail and slight by contrast with the powerful 
negro, but drawing in his breath he tightened his 
grasp on the shovel ready to whirl it round his 
shoulder. 

“ Do you think you can defy me, you fool of 
a white lad? ” said Clarke, with a curious hissing 
such as Benson had heard the bushmen make. 

Don’t you know it is only because I allow it 
either of you are still alive, and you will be glad 
to ask for my orders on your knees presently. 
Give me the keys.” 

He moved a little nearer Benson, who kept his 
eyes on his face, and then stopped suddenly. 

“ Hold on ! ” a voice said sharply. “ Drop that 
thing, Clarke ! ” 

The piece of steel fell ringing on the floor of 
the shed, and Benson saw the Shah’s face in the 
doorway behind the big revolver his friends at 
Bonner and Mason’s had given him. Its muzzle 
was directed at the negro’s chest, and beyond the 
270 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDEE 


bright line of barrel the Shah’s eye was fixed 
upon him steadily. 

“ Pick his knife up, Hilford. Clarke, get out 
of the shed,” he said. 

The negro turned with a growl, and, saying 
nothing whatever, strode out hastily. 

“ I’m thankful,” the Shah said breathlessly. 
“ The beast looked wicked, and it’s just as well 
he went, because I hadn’t time to load this thing. 
A Krooboy saw him threaten you, and I came as 
fast as I could run. What’s it all about? ” 

Benson told him, and, for darkness was 
already drawing in, they went back, talking 
earnestly, to the dwelling. While they sat at 
dinner Clarke came in and sat down tranquilly. 

“ I lost my temper. We both lost our tem- 
pers,” he said. “ Of course, I meant to do 
nothing with the knife, but Mr. Benson looked 
so fierce that I took it out from force of habit. 
I was brought up in a wild country. We will 
not quarrel any more about the powder.” 

“ I don’t wish to quarrel, but I shall keep the 
keys,” said Benson. 

“ Very well,” said Clarke, who commenced his 
dinner with a curious smile. “ When the head- 
man’s boys come for the powder I shall not fail 
to send them to you.” 

When he went out Ormond’s face was very 
thoughtful, and he rufiled his hair as though that 
would stimulate his brain. “ I’m not taken in 
271 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


in the least,” he said. “ The beast is planning 
something. Did you notice how he looked when 
he said he would send the boys to you? ” 

“ I did,” said Benson. “ I think he meant I 
may not be pleased to see them when he does. 
I wish the troops or our new man would come. 
I’m afraid they’ve forgotten us, Persia.” 

An anxious week slipped by. There was no 
promise of assistance from the coast, while big 
canoes filled with negroes went down-stream. 
None of them stopped at Kopelli, nor did they 
seem to understand Benson’s questions, but went 
on in haste. The factory boys also slipped away 
until only the Kroomen, who, coming from Li- 
beria, were disliked by the river tribes, were left. 
All this was very significant. Then one night 
Benson was awakened by a touch upon his 
shoulder, and saw the Shah, who held a lamp, 
standing by his bed. 

“ Get up,” he said sharply. “ There are canoes 
coming down.” 

It was a dark night and very hot, but Benson, 
who saw nothing when he ran out into the 
veranda, could hear the splash of paddles. 

“ They may be friendly negroes, but we’ll turn 
the Krooboys out with their matchets at once,” 
he said. “ It’s fortunate Imrie kept those rifies 
yonder.” 

The Shah snatched one of the weapons from 
the rack, and ran down the stairway, while Ben- 
272 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 


son, who could find no cartridges where he had 
put them, replaced the other and stood staring 
into the darkness which hid the river. Presently 
Clarke came out of his room. “ I think the head- 
man has sent for his powder,” he said. 

Benson made no answer, but, taking a lamp 
from a Krooboy, hastened to join his comrade, 
and found him addressing a group of negroes 
whose matchets glinted under the dickering 
lights. He turned when he saw Benson, and 
pointed with a gesture of disgust towards his 
rifie. 

“ Somebody has jammed the action, and I can’t 
open the breech,” he said. 

“ It was all right yesterday,” said Benson, 
with a sense of dismay, for it was evident they 
had not only savage foes to cope with, but a 
traitor in the factory ! “ Clarke says those are 
the headman’s servants coming for the powder. 
Will the boys stand by us? ” 

Ormond laughed excitedly. “ I think they 
will. I’ve been talking to them, and they don’t 
seem willing to lie down while the bushmen chop 
them,” he said. “ You’re not going to give up 
the powder? ” 

“ I am not,” said Benson quietly. “ Gather 
your boys up in front of the shed ! ” 

The splashing paddles were very close now, 
and while the little group gathered about the 
shed there was a shout from the landing. Ben- 
273 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


son stood holding a lamp, his back to the iron 
door, and the keys in his pocket. The shouting 
was answered by Clarke, and when there was a 
patter of feet Ormond, who spoke to his Kroo- 
boys, clutched the butt of the big pistol beneath 
his jacket. Next minute a line of dusky objects 
came into the narrow circle of light. There were 
a good many of them, huge, muscular river men, 
and as Benson raised the lantern the light 
twinkled upon their sharply-filed matchet blades. 
It showed Clarke standing in front of them, and 
made the darkness behind them deeper. 

“ The headman has sent for his powder,” said 
the negro, with a malicious smile. “ I promised 
to send the boys to you, and hope you are pleased 
now you see them.” 

“ Tell them to go away,” said Benson. “ I 
will not give out a keg of powder until to- 
morrow.” 

Clarke said something in the native tongue, 
and laughed when there was an angry growl 
from the strangers. 

“ They don’t seem willing to go,” he said. 
“Being slaves of the headman they are afraid 
to keep him waiting, and I think it would be 
wiser to open the shed.” 

Before Benson could answer the Shah touched 
him. 

“ You see the big fellow near Clarke? ” he 
said. “ I’ve been wondering where I saw that 
274 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 


pattern of tattoo before, and now I know. It 
was in the village of headman Okiri.” 

Benson, lifting the lantern, also recognized the 
tattoo, and answered the negro sharply. “ Tell 
these men to go home. They will get no powder 
here,” said he. 

Clarke spoke again in the native tongue, and 
some of the newcomers moved forward, while 
there was another ominous growl. 

“ You had better open it quickly. They’re in 
a very bad temper, and I can’t be responsible for 
them if you don’t,” he said. 

Ormond spoke to his Krooboys, who placed 
themselves in the strangers’ way ; then he 
clutched Benson’s arm as he heard the grating of 
the lock. “ You’re not going to give in? ” he said 
anxiously. 

“ You will see,” said Benson as he shoved the 
door half open. 

The canoe men stopped reluctantly at a sign 
from Clarke. There were many of them and the 
Krooboys were few, but the latter had no love 
for the bookkeeper, and had probably a shrewd 
suspicion as to what had become of their com- 
rades who went up river with him. Ormond had 
also won their somewhat fickle affections, and 
knowing the river tribes disliked them at least as 
much as the white men, they looked to him for 
instructions, gripping their matchets. 

“ Don’t be foolish,” cried Clarke. “ Give them 
275 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


the powder. They’ll take it whether you are 
willing or not in another minute.” 

Benson saw this was distinctly probable. The 
canoe men were fingering their matchets in a 
way which suggested they were longing to hurl 
themselves upon the Kroos, and his cheeks were 
very pale as he stood, a spare, white-clad figure, 
in the dark entrance of the shed. He and 
Ormond realized their muscular feebleness when 
their gaze wandered from the savage faces to 
the great naked bodies of the negroes, but they 
stood fast resolutely, the Shah’s fingers tighten- 
ing on the pistol he held muzzle to the ground, 
while Benson swung the lamp a little. 

“ Warn your friends off, Clarke,” he said. 
“ Should the Krooboys fail to stop them I’ll fiing 
this lamp into an open keg before the first enters 
the shed.” 

His face was colorless, but his eyes seemed to 
blaze in the dickering light as he recklessly 
swung the lantern, while, when they saw his 
purpose, and the rows of little powder barrels 
close behind them, river men and Krooboys sud- 
denly recoiled. One or two of the barrels were 
open, and the negroes had burst their gaspipe 
guns too frequently not to understand the un- 
pleasant nature of a gunpowder explosion. 

“ Send them away ! ” Benson, who noticed 
their fear, cried again. “Quick, before I fiing 
the lamp in ! ” 


276 


.m 



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THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 


The tribesmen required no sending, and, while 
Clarke shouted, slunk back out of the light. 
They were probably willing to charge the Kroo- 
boys with the matchet, but to charge a powder 
magazine required a higher kind of courage, 
which they did not possess. So they drew off, 
though Benson fancied that Clarke was calling 
them back. If so, they disregarded him, and he 
stood alone in the lamplight with an evil look 
in his face. 

“ You will suffer for this horribly,” he said, 
and vanished into the darkness. 

The white men waited silently until the splash 
of paddles recommenced, when Benson, laying 
down the lamp, sat down quivering all through 
upon a powder keg, while the Shah drew in a 
deep breath. 

“ They’ve gone. I’m thankful,” he said, and 
his voice was strained and hoarse. “ Would you 
have thrown the lamp in? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Benson with a shiver, 
though the perspiration dripped from him. 
“ Perhaps I wouldn’t have done it ; but what’s 
the use of talking? I’m only thankful there 
was no necessity. They have all gone, haven’t 
they? ” 

“ All of them,” said the Shah, still in a 
strained voice. “ It was awful while it lasted, 
but they’ve gone. I hope that beast Clarke didn’t 
see how my knees were wriggling.” 

277 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


They sat silent a little while, for the effort 
they had made had been more strenuous than 
any physical struggle. Then the Shah stood up. 
“ The beasts will come back for the powder, and 
I wouldn’t like to go through it all again,” 
said he. 

“Nor I,” said Benson; and Ormond laughed 
mirthlessly. 

“ Then there mustn’t be any powder when 
they come,” said he. “ We’ll empty every keg 
into the river, and fling in the guns. It will 
cost our employers a good deal, but they 
ought to be glad to afford it. They’re English- 
men.” 

He called to the Krooboys, and they worked 
most of the night knocking in the heads of the 
kegs and pouring out their contents until, when 
at last they flnished, there was no more powder 
at Kopelli than would load a few flintlock guns. 
Then, tired out and soaked in perspiration, they 
walked wearily back to the dwelling, and Ben- 
son, who flung himself into the flrst chair, 
motioned Ormond to take another opposite 
him. 

“ Clarke has gone off with the bushmen,” he 
said. “ It is clear that, as they wanted all that 
powder, they are actually coming down, and the 
Consul ought to know before the headman sends 
a stronger party. It seems to me Carolan hasn’t 
seen the Consul, and one of us must go down to 
278 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 


warn him, and bring up help at once. - The bush- 
men will, of course, come back.” 

“ Yes,” said Ormond. “ One of us might man- 
age that. What will the other do? ” 

“ He will stay here,” said Benson quietly. 
“ As it is a long way to their villages, it may be 
some time before the bushmen come, but if both 
of us left the factory, every nigger in the swamps 
would come out to plunder it.” 

Ormond said nothing for nearly a minute. 
Then he rose to his feet. ‘‘ I suppose that’s the 
only way, though I wish it wasn’t,” said he. “ It 
wouldn’t have been so bad if we had been to- 
gether; but suppose they come down, what could 
one poor lonely beggar do? Still, I can’t see any 
help for it. Can you? ” 

“ I can’t,” said Benson, a trifle hoarsely. “ But 
I wish the responsibility had not been put on me. 
As Imrie said, we are w'hite men, and every bush 
nigger would jeer at us if, while perhaps no 
one meant to attack us, w'e ran away.” 

“ Of course ! ” said the Shah slowly, while a 
light crept into his eyes. “ You recollect how 
Miss Lee laughed at me. Well, now I’ve got my 
opportunity, and what other folks have done I 
can do. After all, a chop with a matchet can’t 
hurt dreadfully ! ” 

He stopped a moment, recollecting the Kroo- 
boys’ narratives, which seemed to prove that the 
tribesmen did not always dispatch their foes in 
279 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


a merciful fashion. The perspiration dripped 
from his face, but he suddenly clenched one 
fist. 

“I’ll stay in the factory. Get off at once, 
while I feel able to do it,” he said commandingly, 

“ Wait a little,” said Benson. “ The bushmen 
will be watching the river, and I think the 
danger will be equal either way. The fairest 
thing would be to spin a coin and accept its 
decision.” 

The Shah, seeing that he was resolute, groped 
in his pocket and produced a bent sixpence. 
“ Little Elsie gave it me. They wouldn’t take it 
at the shop,” said he. “To stay here. Heads 
for me.” 

He spun the coin, and bent over it breathless 
when it fell, while Benson looked over his 
shoulder. 

“ It is tails,” said the latter quietly. “ You are 
to go.” 

Presently they halted at the landing while two 
Krooboys jumped into the craft below. “ I wish 
it had been me. I mean it, Hilford; but I’ll 
come back if I have to come alone,” said Ormond 
huskily. 

“ I know it,” said Benson. “ And whenever 
you come you’ll find me or my bones here at 
Kopelli. Good-by, Persia, and good luck to 
you.” 

The Shah opened his mouth as though to say 
280 


THE HEADMAN’S POWDER 

something, but seemed at a loss for words, and 
silently grasped his comrade’s hand. Then he 
leaped into the canoe, and the negroes took up 
the paddles. Black darkness hid the craft, and 
Benson went back with a very heavy heart to the 
factory. 


281 


CHAPTER XX 


ON GUARD 

W HEN Benson returned to the factory ve- 
randa the canoe had disappeared. There 
was not even a splash of paddles to reveal her 
presence, for the men who held them had cause 
to suspect that the river was watched by their 
enemies. Thick darkness brooded over it, and 
the only sound was that made now and then by 
the wild creatures rustling in the bush, while 
Benson felt that the silence was almost unen- 
durable. He was very weary, as well as weak- 
ened by fever. 

That he was standing alone for the honor of 
his nation, and to show that loyalty was living 
still, did not then occur to him. He was in no 
mood to consider what motives influenced him, 
and had not chosen his course by the light of 
reason, or he would have found ample excuse for 
leaving Kopelli. It had, though he did hot real- 
ize this, been chosen for him, for he was only 
conscious of a half-sullen determination ; a force 
which was greater than his own will had driven 
him. 


282 


ON GUARD 


Benson had been given his portion of the 
spirit which has led men of many races to brave 
fire and steel for what they believed to be the 
right since the world began. 

With spiritless steps he went into the factory, 
and saw the Shah’s big pistol lying on the table. 
There was some writing on the scrap of paper 
attached to it, and he read, “ It may come in 
useful, and I could not be bothered with the 
thing.” 

That was all the Shah said, but Benson 
guessed what had prompted his comrade to leave 
him his only weapon. It brought him a sense 
of comfort, and it was with a somewhat lighter 
heart he flung himself on his bed. 

It was late when he rose next morning, and he 
spent the day nailing fast the doors of the sheds, 
and directing the Krooboys, who built up a pile 
of salt-bags upon the veranda. He had heard 
how three white men kneeling behind a similar 
barricade with repeating rifles had once held a 
factory against a horde of savages. Then he 
served out flintlock guns to the Krooboys, and 
got out the big red ensign which floated over the 
factory on special days. It was old and ragged, 
but a flush of pride crept into his face as he 
stood bareheaded beneath it, while the crimson 
folds blew out above Kopelli on the faint, hot 
wind. 

“ That flag,” he said to the clustering negroes, 
283 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


“ is greater than any Ju-Ju in Africa. It will 
show the bushmen we are not afraid.” 

Black Prince, their acknowledged leader, ran 
his thumb along his matchet blade. “ You lib 
for ’top here, sah ; we lib too,” said he. “ Sup- 
pose them bushman come, we go one time chop 
him big black head for him.” 

Black Prince was little more than a savage, 
and had been proscribed for smuggling along 
the surf -swept beaches of his own country, but he 
was also a loyal man, and again Benson felt 
comforted as he smiled at him. 

“ Only a few of them could get up that stair- 
way at a time, and I don’t think it would be nice 
for the first ones,” said he. 

The work of defense was finished too soon, 
and there was nothing to do but wait for the 
enemy, which has always been worse than fight- 
ing, and as the days and nights went by, Benson 
envied the Africans’ stolidity. They lay chat- 
ting behind the salt-bags all the burning day, 
and, save for two sentries, slept all night, while 
he would walk restlessly up and down for hours 
together, and sit upon the highest bag most of 
the night, listening with strained attention for 
the beat of paddles. Now and then a canoe 
crowded with fugitives came sliding down river 
through the dark, but Benson could ask no ques- 
tions because the negroes could not understand 
him. Others came down in daylight, but as 
284 


ON GUARD 


their crews carried long guns he decided they 
were either scouts or messengers. One of them, 
poising his flintlock, flred at the flag and smashed 
a window in the factory, but Benson checked his 
Krooboys from pouring in an answering volley. 
He had the sense to know there was nothing to 
be gained by provoking hostilities. 

So, tormented by anxieties and false alarms, 
he waited until the slight fever he occasionally 
suffered from took hold of him once more, and 
he loathed the sight of the food that was offered 
him. 

The Krooboys commenced to grow restless 
and talk of hiding in the bush at last, and some- 
times Benson felt guilty as he strove to convince 
them that the white men would not desert them. 
He himself found it was becoming very difficult 
to cling to that belief. 

Still throughout the burning day and, con- 
trary to rule, all the steamy night, the broad red 
ensign floated over Kopelli factory, and many a 
trembling fugitive took courage when he saw the 
flag, while dusky men hastening up river, armed 
with matchet and gun, were seized by misgivings 
and went home again. They had heard of the 
white men’s soldiers, and here it seemed were a 
few traders willing to fling defiance to the ty- 
rants of the bush, for they did not know that one 
worn-out stripling shaking with fever kept watch 
and ward beneath the flag. Benson Sahib slept 
285 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


in an Indian valley, and Imrie the trader was 
dead, but the words they had spoken were living 
still, and the spirit which lighted the path they 
trod burns on forever unquenchable. 

Meantime the Shah traveled in feverish haste 
down-stream, to the indignation of his Krooboys, 
who would sooner have rested occasionally. 
Sometimes he abused them soundly, and they 
grinned at him. Sometimes he promised them 
rich rewards, and at last commenced to wonder 
whether he had pledged himself to give them 
everything in the factory. His own hands were 
blistered by the paddle until they bled, while his 
knees were raw from continued kneeling, but he 
pushed on stubbornly, scarcely resting to eat and 
seldom to sleep, which was unwise of him, be- 
cause the boys were strangers to that country, 
and, as there was water everywhere, they lost 
their way one night. 

It was morning before they discovered this, 
but the Shah, who had the sun to guide him, 
would not turn back. They were sliding that 
night, almost too weary to lift a paddle, with 
the stream, when a distant thudding sound came 
out of the gloom, and the boys, who recognized 
the beat of paddles, needed no instructions to 
run their craft into the bank. The moon hung 
low above the cottonwoods, and one part of the 
river was bright with silver light, but the rest 
was wrapped in shadow, and the canoe lay under 
286 


ON GUARD 


the great branches which stretched far over the 
water’s edge. Still Ormond felt that any one 
with sharp eyes might see her, and the beating 
of his heart seemed to keep time to the thudding 
of paddles as the canoes came nearer. 

Presently the first craft came into sight, a 
long dark bar on the moonlit water, with a row 
of paddles fiashing on either side. She was 
crowded with men, and there was a glitter of 
steel in her stern where matchets and long guns 
were piled. Close behind her came another 
canoe, and an increasing splash of paddles be- 
tokened the presence of further craft. 

Ormond held his breath as she drew abreast 
of their hiding-place. He could plainly see the 
naked bodies swing with the dipping paddle- 
blades, and knew her crew could only be a de- 
tachment of disaffected tribesmen on their way 
to join the rebels. He also convulsively clutched 
the matchet which lay near him as one of them 
raised his voice, expecting next moment to see 
the bows of the canoe turned towards the bank. 
Then he gasped with relief, for the man broke out 
into a paddling song. 

Further voices joined in, and the steady thud 
quickened a little. In another minute the canoe 
had gone, but Ormond crouched motionless in 
quivering anxiety as with a rapid splash of pad- 
dles and with foam at the bows the rest came up. 
The men in them were big and muscular. He 
287 


THE YOUNG TRADEKS 


could see their tattooing and strangely knitted 
hair, while again the moonlight twinkled upon 
gun-barrel and matchet blade. Then the Kroo- 
man who held a branch let it slip from him, and 
there was a soft rustle as the canoe slid astern. 
Ormond, who felt that they must be seen, found 
it difficult to choke back a shout; but the negro 
seized a bush and the canoe swung in behind it. 
Still, it seemed evident that the first glance cast 
in that direction would lead to their detection. 

No one, however, noticed, and while the voices 
rose more loudly in a wild melody the canoes 
went on. The sound grew fainter until the last 
refrain broke off and there was silence again, 
but Ormond’s voice was hoarse as he spoke to 
the boys, when the canoe crept away down river 
through the shadow close by the bank. 

It was late in the afternoon, and, worn out at 
last, he lay still with an intolerable headache, 
when a measured sound that was not the thud of 
paddles caught his attention, and one of the 
negroes called out. Looking up he saw a column 
of vapor moving behind the forest, and while he 
stared at it the Krooboy called again. “ ’Team- 
boat lib,” he said. 

Then, overcoming his weariness, Ormond rose 
and seized the paddle, though his hands were 
bleeding and the skin was off his knees, for he 
feared the steamer might pass by another chan- 
nel. The negroes also set to work again, and the 
288 


ON GUARD 


craft went on a little faster down the muddy 
stream. Meanwhile the smoke moved nearer, 
until at last Ormond stood upright waving his 
hat, when a little white-painted steamer shot out 
round a bend. Her whistle screamed in answer, 
and he sat down suddenly, for his strength had 
deserted him now the need for it had passed. 

In another few minutes the steamer stopped 
close by, and when the canoe struck against her, 
a white officer helped Ormond over the rail. He 
had a still face with keen but tranquil eyes, and 
noticing the newcomer’s limpness, spoke with an 
even steadiness the Shah found soothing. 

“ Sit down, my lad,” he said. “ You look as 
though you had come a very long way and had 
something to tell me. Don’t be in too great 
haste, but tell it quietly. First of all, do you 
still wish to go down river? ” 

“No, sir,” said Ormond; and the officer 
glanced towards the engineer. 

“ Tell those boys to come aboard. Full speed,” 
he said. “Now I’m ready.” 

Ormond related what had brought him, and 
the officer pointed to the machine gun in the 
bows and the black soldiers squatting on the hot 
deck. 

“ I don’t think you need worry about the bush- 
men,” he said. “ I have a call to make, and then 
we’ll go straight to Kopelli. What became of 
the bookkeeper, Clarke? ” 

289 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


I don’t know,” said Ormond. “ He dis- 
appeared from the factory. Do you think he has 
joined the mutineers? ” 

I think that he was one of them already,” 
said the officer drily. “ So you destroyed all 
the powder! It is fortunate the other folks 
down river had very little.” 

“We did, sir,” said Ormond. “ It will be a 
big loss to our employers, but Benson thought it 
was necessary.” 

“ So do I,” said the officer, with a curious 
smile. “ A flintlock gun isn’t a terrible weapon, 
but it’s harmless altogether when it’s empty, and 
I don’t suppose your employers will lose any- 
thing over the powder. They will charge the 
Government a stiff price for it, and the Consul 
is hardly likely to grumble. Was Benson your 
comrade who stayed at Kopelli? ” 

“ There were only Benson and I,” said the 
Shah. “ I’m William Ormond. I don’t know 
your name, sir.” 

“ It is Ogilvie,” said the officer. “ You know 
your friend’s initials? ” 

“ Of course,” said Benson. “ They are H. E., 
Hilford Ernest Benson.” 

He fancied that Ogilvie appeared a trifle as- 
tonished, and noticed that his eyes were flxed 
steadily on him, though there was no change in 
his voice as he asked the next question. 

“ Did it strike you that the bushmen might 
290 


ON GUARD 


burn you in the factory when you stayed up 
there? ” he said. “ They killed a good many 
people the last time they made a disturbance 
farther along the coast.” 

“ We hoped it wouldn’t come to that, sir,” said 
Ormond awkwardly. “ Still, while we didn’t 
know, we could not leave the factory for the 
niggers to plunder.” 

“ There were several Frenchmen, and one or 
two Englishmen who did,” said Ogilvie drily. 
“ Why couldn’t you? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir,” said Ormond uneasily, 
for though usually a fluent talker, there were 
times when he was diffident. “ Benson said we 
couldn’t, and I thought so, too. We stayed be- 
cause we had to.” 

Ogilvie nodded. “ I fancy I understand you,” 
he said. “ Keep on doing what you feel you 
have to, and you will be glad you did some day. 
This Benson — Hilford Benson — is he anything 
like you? ” 

“ He’s taller,” said Ormond simply. “ He 
knows a good deal more, too, and I don’t think 
he is very like me. He speaks and does things as 
you Government officers do. His father was an 
Indian officer and mine a warehouseman, you 
see.” 

There was no doubt about the interest in 
Ogilvie’s face, but he answered quietly, “ There 
may not be any great difference in the most 
291 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


important things between an Indian Viceroy and 
a warehouseman, but that’s a different affair. 
You look anxious still.” 

“ It’s a long way to Kopelli, and the bushmen 
may get there before us, sir,” said the Shah. 

Ogilvie, who noticed his eagerness, as he 
noticed everything, nodded. “ I am as anxious 
to get to Kopelli as you are,” he said tranquilly. 
‘^This launch is carrying twenty pounds more 
steam than she was built for now. If that does 
not satisfy you, look over the rail.” 

Ormond, who obeyed him, noticed how fast 
the foam raced past the little vessel’s glossy side, 
and the white turmoil in the wake of the whir- 
ring screw. There was no loud thumping and 
wheezing, as in the case of the launch lent to 
Imrie, only a rhythmical hum, and an insistent 
quiver in every stripe of white deck planking, yet 
he felt that the beautiful fabric was being driven 
under the uttermost pressure. 

“ Since you see we are wasting no time, hadn’t 
you better ask the cabin-boy to get you something 
to eat? ” said Ogilvie. 

Ormond had eaten little since he left Kopelli, 
but he made up for it now and astonished the 
dusky cabin-boy. Then he curled himself up in 
an empty berth and the hum of the tireless 
engines served him as lullaby. It was late at 
night when he awakened, but Captain Ogilvie 
still sat by the helm. A trail of luminous 
292 


ON GUAED 


vapor streamed athwart the blackness from the 
crown of the flame-tipped funnel, and two 
straight dark walls of forest rushed by. There 
were stars above, but white mist lay thick on the 
water, and Ormond, impatient as he was, won- 
dered at the vessel’s speed. There were sunken 
trees in those rivers which would rip a vessel’s 
planking from end to end, while the tribesmen 
might have lashed great logs across the stream. 
Two men who knew the creeks well, however, 
crouched in the bows, and the cover was off the 
little machine gun. Black soldiers, grasping 
their rifles, lay along the deck, and axes and 
grappling-irons had been laid in readiness. Or- 
mond accordingly realized that it would be an 
unusually clever bushman who profited by the 
rashness of Captain Ogilvie. 

“We are going very fast, sir. I’m tremen- 
dously obliged to you,” he said, and fancied that 
the officer smiled a little. 

“ It is not altogether for your sake I am run- 
ning the launch so fast,” said he. “We called 
at a native village while you slept, and I have 
ground for supposing that the interests of the 
Government require my presence at the earliest 
moment in the neighborhood of Kopelli.” 


293 


CHAPTEE XXI 


THE RELIEF OP KOPELLI 

I T was a misty morning when Benson sat on 
the veranda at Kopelli. He had been 
awake all night, for every now and then the 
splash of paddles had risen from the stream. A 
thick haze had hung about it through which 
canoes went by invisibly, but he guessed by their 
numbers that the bushmen were not far away. 
A man who spoke a word or two of English had 
also shouted something which Benson under- 
stood to mean that the tribesmen were then 
coming down-stream. He had wondered why the 
headman had not sent a second time for the 
powder, and decided that, seeing he must take 
it by violence, the negro preferred to wait until 
his neighbors had mustered their men before 
doing anything which would bring the troops 
upon him. Now, however, it seemed only too 
probable that the bushmen were hastening to 
Kopelli, and each time he heard the paddles 
Benson expected a body of them to land at the 
factory. 

The haze still drifted across the water, though 
the iron roofs of the sheds were dazzlingly bright, 
294 


THE RELIEF OP KOPELLI 

and Benson wondered, as he glanced at them 
with aching eyes, whether he would ever see the 
sun rise again. The fever was slightly worse 
that morning, and he had eaten little for several 
days, while, worn out as he was by anxiety, he 
felt that anything would be preferable to another 
day of torturing suspense. Rising wearily, he 
stood staring at the mist. It was thinning, 
leaving bare the giant trunks of the cottonwoods, 
and here and there a patch of shining water. 
Suddenly one of the Krooboys rose from behind 
the bags and stood leaning forward in an at- 
titude of eager attention. 

“Plenty river man lib,” he said. 

There was a growl from his comrades, who 
scrambled to their feet, and a clatter of matchets, 
and Benson touched the bulge in his pocket 
where the Shah’s big pistol lay. Then a gun- 
lock clicked, and he glanced at the negro. 

“ You think there are many canoes. Black 
Prince? ” he said. 

“ Plenty canoe, sah,” said the negro. “ Too 
much bushman lib for Kopelli.” 

Benson afterwards wondered why he felt so 
little fear, for he was mainly conscious of a cold 
resentment against the men who had kept him 
waiting in horrible apprehension. Now they 
were coming, it was with a strange quietness 
he realized that in a very little while there might 
be no factory at Kopelli. How long the Eroo- 
295 


THE YOUNG TRADEKS 


boys would support him he did not know, but he 
had promised to stay at Kopelli, and stay he 
would. Human help seemed out of the question, 
but it might be possible to hold the veranda 
for a time, and he had no wish to be made a 
prisoner and endure the horrible cruelties perpe- 
trated upon white men as well as negroes when 
the bushmen plundered the factories in another 
colony. 

Then for a few moments his thoughts went 
back to his happy childhood and the peaceful 
days spent at the English school. He remem- 
bered his ambitions, and the crushing disappoint- 
ment which had sent him out, a humble trading 
clerk, to Africa; but that, he thought, was of 
little importance now. He was still the son of 
Benson Sahib, and it was with a little thrill of 
pride he determined that while he was whole in 
limb no bushman should set foot on the veranda 
of the Kopelli factory. 

His fingers were quite steady as he drew back 
the hammer of the big revolver. He said nothing 
to the Krooboys, for they knew all that he did, 
and there was nothing to say, but, moved by some 
impulse, he looked up at the flag. 

A puff of warm wind shook out its folds, and 
it streamed forth bravely above the factory. 
Imrie had laughed at the wrath of headman and 
Ju-Ju magician, and his flag floated defiantly 
over Kopelli still. 


296 


THE RELIEF OF KOPELLI 


Next morning the thud of paddles, which had 
been growing louder, rose more sharply, as though 
the canoe boys had seen the flag above the mist. 
Benson could hear it with a horrible distinctness, 
and so flve minutes passed. Then suddenly the 
negro striding along the veranda stopped with 
a gesture of flerce excitement, and Benson felt 
his blood pulse faster as he gazed at him. There 
was hope and amazement in the black man’s face. 

‘‘‘ Do you hear anything. Black Prince? Can’t 
you speak? ” he said. 

Still the negro said nothing* He stood mo- 
tionless, but it was evident that he was listening 
with desperate intentness, and Benson waited 
quivering in every limb. Then the black man 
laughed a wild, hoarse laugh and pointed down 
river. 

’Teamboat lib,” he said. 

Benson caught at a pillar, for his head reeled. 
It was a minute or two before he was master of 
himself again, and then he could hear a faint 
humming which seemed to increase as he listened. 
JThe canoes were nearer, but Benson fancied the 
men in them could not distinguish the sound 
amidst the rush of water and splash of paddles. 
Still, a steamer was coming towards Kopelli at 
top speed, and it was now only a question 
whether she would reach the factory before the 
tribesmen. 

Benson could see nothing then, and longed 
297 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


that the mist would lift. Belts of it still 
stretched across the river and hid the rapidly ap- 
proaching craft in its folds, while, now help was 
near, he was once more a prey to torturing 
anxiety. He never knew how long he waited 
before a voice came out of the vapor, and he 
could tell it was a cry of alarm, while next 
moment the splash of paddles ceased. There 
were more cries before it commenced again, and 
for a few breathless moments he wondered 
whether the tribesmen were coming on or retir- 
ing. Then there was a roar from the Krooboys 
which almost drowned Black Prince’s exultant 
yelJ. 

‘‘ Them bushmen go home one time.” 

Once more Benson felt faint and dizzy from 
very relief, and his voice was hoarse as he said, 
“ Fire your gun.” 

There was a crash of flintlocks, and then, while 
the smoke circled about the veranda, a brief 
silence. Then the scream of a whistle vibrated 
across the forest, and a moving trail of smoke 
rose above the mist, but Benson could hear 
neither engines nor paddles now, for the Kroo- 
boys were shouting deliriously, and one or two 
in a frenzy of excitement were still firing their 
guns. 

A minute or two later a white-painted steamer 
raced out of the mist, and Benson stood on the 
salt-bags cheering when, with the foam heaped 
298 


THE BELIEF OF KOPELLI 


about her bows, she swept past the factory. A 
machine gun twinkled forward, rifle barrels 
glinted about her rail, and the Shah was shout- 
ing and waving his hat to him. She plunged 
into a belt of mist again, and his comrade’s voice 
reached Benson faintly: 

“We’re going on to smash the niggers, and 
then coming back for you.” 

It was perhaps ten minutes later w'hen a sound 
like that of hammering came out of the vapor, 
and Benson recognized the jarring reports of 
the machine gun. It only lasted a very little 
while before there was silence again. Then the 
sound of engines recommenced, and the steamer 
came slowly towards the landing. Ormond 
leaped from her and, running at full speed, met 
Benson at the foot of the stairway. He jerked 
out excited words, wringing his comrade’s hand, 
but had said nothing Benson could clearly under- 
stand when, as they reached the top of the stair- 
way, an officer joined them. 

“ You are Mr. Hilford Benson? ” he said; and 
when Benson said he was, looked at him gravely 
out of penetrating eyes. Then he smiled as one 
satisfled. 

“ You remind me of your father, and he was 
a great friend of mine,” he said. “ You have 
heard of Herbert Ogilvie? ” 

Benson moved back a pace in astonishment, 
but the officer laid one hand on his shoulder. 
299 


THE YOUNG TRADERS 


“ I have been endeavoring to find you since 
I left India, and am not disappointed now,” he 
said. “ Your friend has told me everything, and 
I am only sorry I have made so poor a guardian, 
though I will endeavor to make up for it in the 
future. Now don’t you mean to ask me into the 
factory you have held so gallantly?” 

They went in together, Benson in wondering 
silence, the Shah talking volubly. 

“ I met Captain Ogilvie coming up, and wish 
you had been with us when we surprised the 
niggers. It was great,” said he. “ The beggars 
never expected us, and didn’t know what to do. 
One or two fired their fiintlocks and then jumped 
over, when we fired into the water in front of 
them. The rest fiung down their paddles, and 
some of the canoes upset, while the river seemed 
full of swimming niggers. We steamed round 
them, driving them into a cluster while the in- 
terpreter made speeches, then picked up most of 
the leaders, and they’re sitting scowling on board 
the launch. We took all the weapons from the 
rest, and sent them home to tell their head- 
man we’d come and hang him if he wasn’t 
good.” 

Ogilvie laughed at the conclusion of the nar- 
rative. 

“ That is a pretty fair account of it, though 
Mr. Ormond omitted to state that he narrowly 
escaped arrest for using a rifie he had no business 
300 


THE EELIEP OF KOPELLI 


to touch,” he said. “ It is fortunate the bush- 
men were hardly strong enough to resist us, 
though I think if they had gone back loaded with 
powder their headman would have sent several 
hundred more dowm river very shortly. As it is, 
I should not wonder if he decided to stay quietly 
at home.” 

“ But he was only one of several,” said Ben- 
son. 

“ Of course,” said Ogilvie. “ Still, in a case 
of this kind the first blow often decides the ques- 
tion, and while had the headman won a trifling 
skirmish the rest would have joined him, they 
will consider before they make a move now. 
Meanwhile there are troops going up the next 
river. I am, however, sorry I can’t stay here, 
and we must decide what is to be done with 
you.” 

“ We cannot leave the factory,” said Ben- 
son. 

“ Then I must spare you a few soldiers,” said 
Ogilvie. “ You have not determined to become 
a trader? ” 

“ There is nothing else I can do, sir, though 
I was never fond of bnsiness,” said Benson. 

“ It does not seem to have injured you,” said 
Ogilvie drily. “ It is unfortunate that, after 
searching for you all this time, I have only a 
minnte or tw'O to spare. I gathered that you 
had displeased your uncle, but he did not know 
301 


THE YOUNG TKADEES 


what had become Of you. Tell me all about it 
as briefly as you can.” 

“ I wrote him,” said Benson. 

“ I don’t think he got the letter, but we need 
not discuss that question now,” said Ogilvie. 
“ I wish to know what brought you out here.” 

Benson told him briefly all that had passed 
since he entered the service of Bonner and Ma- 
son, and there was an approving look in the 
officer’s eyes. 

“You are like your father, and I knew him 
well,” he said. “ How long I shall be kept busy 
is more than any man can tell, but I will come 
back as soon as there is quietness again. When 
I do, it is possible I may have good news for both 
of you.” 

He shook hands with them, and a few minutes 
later the launch slid out from the landing, while 
Benson looked after her in an almost dazed 
fashion as she steamed away. 

“ I could wonder if I was dreaming. This 
morning has been a bewildering one to me,” said 
he. “ I had given up hope altogether an hour 
ago, and now we are both at Kopelli again, while 
I have met the guardian I never expected to hear 
from.” 

“ It is curious,” said the Shah, ruffling his 
hair. “ Nothing ever seems to happen the way 
a fellow thinks it will. Suppose you hadn’t gone 
to Bonner’s you would never have been here, and 
302 


THE BELIEF OF KOPELLI 


if it hadn’t been for the bushmen you might not 
have met Captain Ogilvie. It’s strange how the 
last things one would ever suspect of doing fit 

in.” 

Benson smiled a little. 

‘‘All that is tolerably plain, but I’m wonder- 
ing what will be the end of it,” said he. 

“ A fellow can sometimes understand the past 
because it’s there for him to see, but I’m afraid 
I know very little about the future,” said the 
Shah solemnly. “ Still, I shouldn’t wonder if 
Captain Ogilvie meant to do something for you.” 

“ I think he meant to do something for both 
of us,” said Benson; but the Shah sighed dubi- 
ously. 

“ That w’as only his way of putting it. When 
you don’t hope for anything you can’t be dis- 
appointed,” said be. “ But you never thought 
of asking him to have some breakfast.” 

“ I was too surprised to think at all,” said 
Benson. “ He will have a better breakfast in 
the launch, any way.” 

“ Perhaps he will,” said Ormond, with a 
twinkle in his eyes. “ But I’m not in the launch, 
and you never asked me.” 

Benson thumped him on the shoulder, and they 
went laughing up the stairway. 

The fever soon left Benson, but a month had 
passed before either the new agent or Captain 
Ogilvie reached Kopelli. Meanwhile the pres- 
303 


THE YOUNG TEADEES 


ence of the black soldiers rendered any attack 
improbable, and from rumors brought down by 
one or two native traders it appeared that while 
several stockades had been burned, there had 
been no fighting. 

The agent and Captain Ogilvie came up in 
the steamer with a second officer. The former 
introduced himself as soon as they entered the 
factory, and when the party sat down at a table 
Benson felt strangely nervous. He could see by 
the Shah’s movements that he shared his own 
belief that something unusual was about to hap- 
pen. His new master presently laid some papers 
upon the table. 

“ The Company’s head representative desired 
me to inform Mr. Ormond that he appreciated 
his recent conduct,” said he. “ He seems to con- 
sider that had you acted differently the natives 
might have destroyed a good deal of valuable 
merchandise, and wishes you to go down and see 
him as soon as I can spare you.” 

The Shah looked puzzled as well as pleased. 

“ Isn’t Benson to go, too, sir? ” said he. 

The agent glanced at Ogilvie, who smiled. 

“ Mr. Benson is not to go with you,” he said. 
“ I have instructions to cancel your engagement, 
and appoint you bookkeeper at one hundred 
pounds a year, with the promise of the first 
agency that falls vacant when you are fit to take 
it. Will that suit you? ” 

304 


THE BELIEF OF KOPELLI 


The Shah gasped with astonishment. 

“ It would suit me tremendously,” said he. 
“ But I can’t take it if you mean to pass over 
Benson; and what will you do with Clarke? ” 

‘‘ Probably shoot him. That is, supposing we 
can find him, which is hardly likely,” said the 
second officer drily. “ Get on with the other lad’s 
business, Mr. Trader.” 

The agent turned to Benson, who was endeav- 
oring to conceal his wonder and dismay. His 
face grew pale when the agent passed a paper 
across to him. 

“ The Company are willing to cancel your 
engagement,” said he. 

“ Then they can get another bookkeeper. We’ll 
go home to-morrow, Hilford,” broke out the 
Shah; and both officers laughed a little, while 
one of them nodded approval. 

“ They’re a tolerably well-matched couple. 
Don’t be too hasty, my lad,” he said. 

Ogilvie disregarded Ormond, who stood with 
a fiushed face glaring at the agent, and laid a 
second paper before Benson. 

“ You are too old to enter the army, but you 
can serve the Government in various ways,” said 
he. “ For instance, here is an appointment to 
the service of this Protectorate. It is, of course, 
not a military one, but you rank as an officer, 
and there is nothing to prevent your becoming a 
Consul or Commissioner in this or other of our 
305 


THE YOUNG TEADEKS 

African possessions, if you go on as you have 
begun.” 

Benson’s eyes sparkled, but he stood star- 
ing at the officer in silent astonishment until 
the Shah struck him boisterously on the shoul- 
der. 

“ Made a fool of myself, as usual. It’s won- 
derful,” said he. “ I’m to be agent, and you a 
Protectorate officer. We can’t be together, Hil- 
ford, but we would have had to split up 
some day, and the Consulate isn’t so very far 
away.” 

“ Have you no answer? ” said Ogilvie, smiling. 
“ Doesn’t the appointment please you?” 

“ Please is hardly the word for it, sir,” said 
Benson, a trifle huskily. “ It is beyond the most 
I hoped for. Why did they give it me? ” 

The second officer looked at him steadily. 

“ I think you are sensible lads,” said he. “ It 
would be well to conclude that you received your 
new appointments on the recommendation of 
Dr. Carolan and Vice-Consul Ogilvie, and con- 
sider it a coincidence that about the same time 
you rendered a slight service to the Government. 
Only a few of the men who serve the State are 
ever rewarded for it, as you perhaps know.” 

The Shah looked at Benson and smiled know- 
ingly, while the officer seemed to And it difficult 
to frown. 

“ I will endeavor to bear it in mind, sir,” 
306 


THE RELIEF OP KOPElLI 


Said Benson. “ You alluded to Vice-Consul 
Ogilvie? ” 

“ I did,” said the ofiftcer. “ The Vice-Consul 
died of fever lately, and the authorities seemed 
to consider your friend, who was instrumental 
in preventing what might have been a serious 
disturbance, the best man to replace him. The 
bushmen, I may mention, are sending in guar- 
antees for their good behavior. Now I think we 
have finished with business after we have sworn 
Mr. Benson in.” 

Benson’s voice trembled a little as he took the 
oath of allegiance, and afterwards both officers 
gravely shook hands with him. 

“ I venture to think you will be a credit to 
the service, and would like to wish Mr. Ormond 
a prosperous future,” said the second one. 

“ It is wonderful,” said Ormond, when he next 
met Benson alone. “ Simply wonderful ! Still, 
I wonder if they’d have put down the mutiny so 
easily if we hadn’t spoiled the powder.” 

Benson made no answer. Words would hardly 
have expressed his feelings, and his heart was 
full. He had, though he sometimes suffered for 
it, done what seemed right to him, and learned 
much that he never would have done in pros- 
perity during his probation. Now the reward he 
had not looked for had come, but because of what 
had beep taught him painfully he was humble as 
well as glad. He realized vaguely that he was 
307 


THE YOUNG TRADEES 


fortunate beyond his deserts, for, as it was with 
Trader Imrie, many valiant Englishmen who 
received no reward on earth have laid down their 
lives for a principle in the fever land, and so 
passed — it may be with the greater honor — to 
join the company of the loyal, where the praise 
of men counts for less than nothing. 


THE END 


308 


XI 7 








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